After The Storm
by VampedVixen
Summary: After that damn dragon is slain a portal opens up and Angel and crew get sucked into another dimension. Meanwhile, Connor decides he has to try to reopen the portal and save his father. (post-Not Fade Away)
1. Chapter 1

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 1  
  
By Vixen  
  
Connor clutched his stomach, feeling his ribs to make sure they weren't broken. It was only the second fight he'd gotten into since he'd gotten his memories back, since he'd gotten his fighting skills back, and it had been a bad one. Or embarrassing at least, getting head butted and sent flying across the room, only to land in a crumbled mess and black out for a few minutes. Then when he had come to, Angel had told him to go home. His father had sent him away again, to protect him, and Connor had obeyed for once. Now he wouldn't get to see how the final fight ended, how it all went down, if his father lived through the night.  
  
Breathing hard, he leaned against a stony wall of a city building. He'd run out of the office building, and only now that he was a few city blocks away did he dare take a break. The Wolfram and Hart building still loomed overhead, one of the tallest structures in the whole city. An immense monument to the evil that ran the city, a fortress for underhanded dealings. His father had tried to change the system from within but it hadn't worked. Now the end was coming.  
  
Angel knew that. It was the reason he had shown at the small coffee house to see Connor. One last goodbye, and then so long. This annoyed a small part of Connor. Why did his father always wait for the last possible second to try to change things?  
  
The boy watched as people scurried about the street, a minor panic was rising. Even the purebred humans without any special spidey senses could feel that something was amiss by now. Connor himself had felt the difference in the air since he'd left the coffee shop. The atmosphere of the whole city seemed heavier, the air tingled against his skin. He'd had thoughts of sweeping in to save the day, or at least help a little, but as soon as he'd gotten hurt he'd run away. It wasn't his fight, his father had said. He had to live. Everyone had given up so much so that he could live a safe normal life. Still, he couldn't stop the intense need to do something. Anything.  
  
As he stood there, leaning against the building from the shadows, while people rushed by trying to get away from the enveloping evil that was threatening to swallow the city, he saw the lights at Wolfram and Hart go out. The place should have had some backup generators, but even they weren't working now. It was just black and dead.  
  
Connor took a few steps into the street, trying to get a better view. He could feel the first few raindrops starting to fall from the sky. They smelled like sulfur and ash, with a slightly different texture than real rain. More wet, if that was possible. He reached out with one hand, letting the water hit it, "Huh, evil rain. That's not a good sign."  
  
It started as a loud rumble in the distance, growing to a thunderous roar as the sound waves reached the street where Connor was standing. After the sound began, there was only a brief second before the destruction started. Wolfram and Hart was finally beginning to tumble under the damage it had sustained. Truthfully, Connor was surprised it had held up as long as it did. When he had been running down the stairs and out the exit, he had feared it might come down before he had a chance to get away. He hadn't been prepared for the sight of the whole structure falling down around itself though, the shockwave that was sent through the ground as the rubble hit the street.  
  
More people had begun running away, those who had not been sensing anything or who had ignored their intuition finally seeing the danger they were in with their own eyes. Connor was numb and unmoving, as he watched the panic and alarm. Carefully, he went over his options. He could rush back and try to something stupid and heroic that would probably get him killed, or he could do the smart thing and get the hell out of the way of the oncoming slaughter. On the one hand his father had told him to leave, and on the other he knew he couldn't. He shook his head to clear it and then gave a small shrug, "Never listened to him before, why start now?"  
  
He was the only one on the street that night running towards the site of the fallen building, the only one who was crazy enough to not want to get away as quickly as possible. Tugging his jacket tighter, he pushed his way through the crowds. When he'd gotten closer, the crowds had dispersed. Only a few other people were in the area now, and he stood out among the others just by the way he was walking.  
  
"Hey, you," he heard a police officer call to him.  
  
Connor rolled his eyes and turned to face the taller man, "Yes, officer?"  
  
"Just where do you think you're going, did you not see the barricades? This part of the block is closed to cars and pedestrian traffic."  
  
"Well, you see, officer, um," Connor turned his attention back to the rubble that littered the street. Dust covered the surrounding stores, though some of it had washed of in the rain, and there was no sign of any survivors. Quickly, he tried to wrack his brain for an excuse the cop might buy, "I just wanted to check out what was going on. That's all."  
  
"Why don't you just turn around and go home, son," The officer crossed his big burly arms, blocking Connor's way. The boy bristled at the last word that left the man's mouth. Then, thinking of the rain and how hard it would be to pick up the trail of any one who had survived the demolition in the rain, if anyone had indeed survived, Connor did the only thing he could think of. He punched the police officer, knocking him out cold.  
  
"Uh, sorry," Connor said, excusing himself as he walked around the fallen man. If his parents, his fake parents, knew what he had just done he'd be grounded for life. He was kind of angry with himself for not being able to think of an alternative way to handle the situation. Time was running out however, and his adrenaline was pumping making it a little difficult to think straight at the moment. It felt like old times, he admitted. Back when he used to do this kind of thing regularly. He took one last passing glance at the man he'd knocked out, and then ran towards the crumbled stone and iron I-beams that had once been Wolfram and Hart.  
  
Carefully, he inched his way through the broken glass and bent metal. The wreckage was piled up in unstable bunches, but he was able to climbed on it without falling or cutting himself on any of the sharp shards that reached up from the remains. He closed his eyes, focusing on the smells that emitted from the area. Smelling blood, he reached under one of the fallen beams, lifting it up with inhuman strength. Underneath it a woman with strawberry blond hair was looking up blankly at him. She was having difficulty breathing. It was a miracle she had survived the fall at all, but her life was slowly draining away. She wouldn't last long; she probably wouldn't even make it to a hospital.  
  
Connor couldn't just leave her there though. Picking more debris off of her, trying to dig the woman out from under the weight of the collapsed building, Connor barely noticed when she said it the first time. When she repeated her words the second time he heard them clearer, "He's gone."  
  
Connor continued to work to uncover her, "Who's gone.. Angel?"  
  
She seemed to laugh weakly, but only ended up wheezing and coughing before she continued in a dead far away voice, "Lindsey. Lindsey's gone."  
  
"It's okay," Connor said without knowing whom she was talking about. Picking her up in his arms softly, he reassured her, "I'm going to take you to someone who can get you help. Just don't die, okay?" The woman let herself be carried away like a weakling, unresisting and even patient as he handed her over to a police officer. The fight had long since left her.  
  
As soon as she was in the care of the police, Connor took off bolting towards the other scent he had discovered while he had been pulling her out of the wreck. There were more police in the area now, and they weren't taking his previous actions lightly. Connor could hear a couple of them start running after him, but he was quicker than them. He just hopped he'd be able to reach his father in time; this was one fight he couldn't miss.  
  
When he heard the sirens from the police cars coming after him, Connor darted into an alleyway. The streets were littered with cars filled with people trying to escape the city. It would have been almost impossible for the police to follow him in their cruisers; still he couldn't take any chances. Rushing up a fire escape ladder, Connor pulled himself up to the top of an apartment building. He'd take the high road from then on.  
  
He hopped from building top to building top, not having to stop to pick up the scent trail now. It was all too obvious where the big fight was going to be. A hoard of demons was filling the sky; he thought he even saw what looked like a dragon. There were probably just as many, or more, creatures on the ground, and they were all converging on one spot. The alleyway behind the Hyperion. It was still a few buildings away. Connor raced through the night, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes, as he tried to make it in time. He had no idea what he was going to do when he actually did get there, but at least he'd be in the fight. He'd make a difference. He'd be one of the good guys for a change.  
  
Finally, he reached one of the building tops that framed the alleyway. He looked down to see his father, Gunn and the two others he'd met during his first trip to Wolfram and Hart. They looked like they were in bad shape, losing the battle, losing the war. There were just too many demons. The Senior Partners had unleashed every weapon they had against those who sought to bring them down. Connor took a deep breath and then hurried towards the ladder on the side of the building. Time to get to work.  
  
He skipped a couple of steps as he raced down the fire escapes on each floor. Halfway to the ground, he was about to jump the rest of the way to the street when he felt a large force of wind hit him. Looking towards the alleyway, Connor starred in horror as a portal began to open up. Angel and the others were too preoccupied with the fight to notice the opening was growing behind them. When they did notice it, it was already too late. The portal acted like a vacuum, dragging those around it into it's swirling chaos.  
  
Connor clutched the side of the fire escape to avoid getting sucked in with the pull of the wind. He tried to scream out to the others, but his voice was lost in the storm. His father and those who fought beside him were unable to stop from being pulled into the portal, and as soon as they had been plucked up the portal closed and vanished without a trace. Connor starred, horrified, he could do nothing. Falling to his knees, his hands wrapped so tightly around the metal bars of the fire escape he lost feeling in his fingers, and he felt the ultimate defeat. His father was gone. He had been too late.  
  
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	2. Chapter 2

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 2  
  
By Vixen  
  
The portal had opened halfway through the fight. The champions hadn't noticed it until they got sucked up into the new dimension. Angel, ever the martyr to the cause, had tried to get back to their own world, but the gateway had closed. Standing a few feet away from the other three, he yelled out, "This is how it ends?! I wasn't through kicking the crap out of those guys yet."  
  
"Don't fret. Bet there's some evil round here just waiting to be pummeled," Spike said as he supported Gunn. A demon growl alerted his attention, "Yeah, hey look, evil."  
  
The group looked towards the growling, seeing a dozen or so demon-y things they'd never come across before. They were bigger than most of the demons the group had fought before. With slimy black wrinkled skin, two monstrously large fists, and a mouth full of teeth they were apparently not the welcoming committee.  
  
Gunn grit his teeth. The previous fight had taken almost everything out of him, he wasn't sure if he could handle another. Still, if the others were still hanging in there so would he. It didn't matter that he wasn't as strong; it had never mattered. He had a mission. Get rid of the demons at all costs, whether they were from his dimension or existed only in this one. He raised his homemade battle-axe and then lifted himself so that he was standing on his own strength again, no more leaning on Spike. The vampire looked at him quizzically, but Gunn shrugged off his concern, "I'm a'ight."  
  
"Yeah, you look it," Spike smirked slightly as Gunn's stance wavered. He continued to keep a close eye on the human but let him pretend he was fine. Beside them, Illyria was already grabbling with the first demon that had made its way over to them. Another entered the fray and Angel went to work with his sword, hacking away tiny pieces of the demon's skin but the thing seemed unaffected by its injuries. Some more came closer, bringing Spike and Gunn into the battle as well.  
  
As much damage as the things sustained however, they were still stronger than the four of them. The hot sun that beat down upon them didn't help matters much. It only made the wet closer they were wearing cling tighter to their bodies, inhibiting movement somewhat.  
  
Even Illyria, who had the strength of a God, was getting nowhere. She punched the demon she was fighting; trying to put a dent in its dark flesh, but the thing only came back with a blow of its own. It was strong enough to knock the shell to her feet. When Illyria stood again, rising to her full height, she wore a furious look within her eyes, "You should not have done that, creature."  
  
It starred at her with its four eyes, narrowing them in on its target. It said nothing back, but raised its arm and shot what looked like a beam of electric into her torso. She fell back again; landing sprawled on the dirt ground. When she didn't move, Spike tossed the demon he had been fighting a few feet away from him and took a moment to check on the girl.  
  
He poked her with his foot, "Hey, Blue. Wake up. Don't want to miss the party."  
  
Spike's demon came back for him, but Spike ducked it's punch and turned back to look at Illyria. She was still on the ground, but had her eyes open now. In a perfectly clear, yet pained voice she told him, "We can not fight them like this. We must regroup."  
  
He could tell she was in pain, though she was able to rise to her feet again. If she couldn't handle the things it didn't bode well for the rest of them. She was right; they needed to regroup. Spike blocked an incoming blow and turned towards Angel, "Blue wants to regroup. Think it might be a good idea."  
  
"No." Angel shouted back. He received a quick series of punches, losing his sword as the blows surprised him. He ducked and rolled towards the sword. Then, he shouting to Spike again, "We're not running from this. We're going down fighting, and that's final. You signed up for this, you all did."  
  
"Thought we'd be fighting on our own turf, with things we knew how to kill," Spike yelled back. Momentarily lost in his own fight, he launched himself at a demon, but it sent an electric shock through him, sending him flying backwards. He growled angrily, "That's tears it, no more of this." He retreated, grabbing Illyria by the wrist, "Get the boy. We're getting out of here."  
  
She knocked the demon she had been fighting with a punch, stunning it for the moment. Then she followed Spike, stopping only to reach out for Gunn. The human was fading quicker than before, but he still couldn't give up the fight while leaving his friend behind, "What about Angel?"  
  
"If our great fearless leader doesn't see that we're going to wind up fried, he can stay," Spike muttered as they retreated from the battle. He looked back and saw Angel getting clobbered by the ebony demon things.  
  
"We can't just leave him," Gunn narrowed his eyes at the vamp, but his case was ineffective as he held a hand to his wounded side. The blood had soaked his shirt, and in the hot sun he felt more like fainting than in carrying on with the fight.  
  
Just when Spike was about to start naming the reasons why they had to retreat, Angel landed a few feet away from them. He'd gotten a taste of the demon's electric beams.  
  
Spike walked over to the other vampire, starring down at him. He smiled devilishly, "Ready to leave yet?"  
  
Angel coughed up blood, sitting up slightly. The world was still spinning. With a defeated nod he said, "Yeah. Let's go."  
  
The demons started to give chase as the four of them began withdrawing from the fight, but after they got a few yards away the things gave up. It didn't seem right to Gunn, that they had just stopped coming after them. He was in no shape to argue however and returned his focus to trying to walk and not pass out.  
  
Spike glanced up at the sky. There were two bright suns shining down on them, one red and one more yellow in color. He could never get used to being able to walk in the sunlight in alternate dimensions. As they rested under a rock ledge, listening for sounds of approaching danger, Spike mused. "Where'd we get dropped off," He gave a passing look around the sandy desert of the new dimension, "Arizona?" With its high canyon walls and odd rock formations it certainly looked the part, though there were the occasional oddities.. the two suns, the glowing red moss that grew on the east side of the rock walls, the new exciting demons with electro-ray powers.  
  
"This is not your world," Illyria said, pronunciating with certainty.  
  
"Yeah, got that, Blue. I was being facetious," Spike rolled his eyes at her, "Look it up in a dictionary. If you can find one in this place."  
  
"Facetious..." The girl rolled the new world around on her tongue, curiously paying attention to the sound of it while adding it to her ever- widening vocabulary.  
  
"This another Pylea deal," Gunn gave a questioning glance to Angel, hoping the vampire would have some answers. Angel's face showed clearly that he was as lost as the rest of them, and a little angry too for having to run away from a fight. Better to do that though, and live to fight another day, Gunn figured. Not that he'd live long, he noted. He knew he was dying, he'd lost too much blood by now, just figured he'd draw it out a little longer if possible. He always was the stubborn kind. Do not go gently, and all that stuff.  
  
By now, Illyria had caught on to his distress. Sitting next to him, she lifted his shirt a little, glancing curiously at the wound at his side. She had never been this gentle with lower beings before, and a part of her hated herself for going soft. Still, Gunn had been Wesley's friend and ally. Studying the wound she said, "You won't last long."  
  
"Gee, thanks," Gunn grabbed his shirt back, covering up his side. Illyria's words had been a little too close to the truth. He frowned, "Not dead yet, though." He tried to stand up, to show the others he was okay, but just fell into a cough and sat back down again.  
  
"Does our leader have a plan yet," Spike pointedly asked, waiting for Angel to reply to his cutting wit. Glancing around the place, Spike was certain he didn't want to wait around there long. It was desolate and empty, not a decent meal in sight unless the demons would let him drink from them. He highly doubted that they would. Plus, it was just god-awful boring around there, stuck in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"No, Spike," Angel glared back at the other vampire, "I don't have a plan yet. My first plan really didn't include entering an alternate dimension, so I'll have to process the shock of that first, if you don't mind. To top it off," He stood up from the rock he'd been resting on. Crossing his arms, he angrily continued, "I don't want to be the leader anymore. You're so gung-ho about how you're the true champion, you try it for a change." He said nothing more before he started to walk down the valley between the two rock ledges that framed their resting spot.  
  
Spike was taken back at first, not sure what to do. He got to be the leader for once; that was just too damn cool. This was not the best time to be splitting up. Resorting to his wit to carry him through the situation he called after Angel, "Oh, don't get your knickers in a snit."  
  
Angel didn't even turn around, just waved one hand in the air, as if to say goodbye and continued on his way. Spike turned to Gunn, who was looking back at him with a worried frown. With an annoyed sigh, Spike began walking after his old mate, determined to talk some sense into him. Halfway towards Angel, Spike stopped, his highly trained ears picking up something with their vampiric hyper-hearing. Angel turned quickly, hearing the sound as well.  
  
Spike whipped his head upwards, towards the top of the rocky cliff, and cursed himself for being stupid enough to rest inside a ravine. This was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. And they were the fish. What had they been thinking? Must be have been all those months spent in the cushy lifestyle of the rich and evil at Wolfram and Hart; it had made them all a little careless.  
  
They were the same black shiny demons from before; only there were more of them. They'd brought their friends along for the big fight. Still, they were still all the way up there. Before the things climbed down, Spike and the others would have a few minutes to at least start running. As an electric bolt shot past his head, Spike ducked and then turned towards the wall behind him. There was a large scorch mark on it. So much for the grace period to start running.  
  
Spike watched as an electric bolt hit Illyria. Two more and she fell down, unmoving. Next to fall was Angel. Though he tried to dodge, even he was no match for their aim. Gunn was hiding behind a rock by the edge of the rock wall. He peeked out for a second; calling out to Spike to say that he had found shelter, but as he did he was hit as well. "This is just great," Spike muttered, dashing towards the small area of shelter Gunn had found. He saw the next bolt that hit him coming straight for his head, but he didn't dodge quickly enough. As it hit him he fell to the ground and began to lose consciousness and his last thought floated through his mind, 'Yeah.. just great.'  
  
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	3. Chapter 3

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 3  
  
By Vixen  
  
Far away sirens could be heard as Connor scrambled down the fire escape numbly. There was nothing he could do now; he'd been too late. He couldn't even take on the rest of the demons; there were dozens of them, he'd never be able to fight them all. He gave a fleeting glance at the hordes of creatures, all of different sizes and grotesque shapes; they'd be free to attack the city now. There were no more heroes to keep them in line, only himself. That wasn't enough. Even the Destroyer he had been was no match for all of them.  
  
Instead, he began walking. He wasn't sure where he was headed; he didn't feel like going back to his fake home. They were probably worried about him, when he left he said he'd be back in a few hours. Just enough time to work on the resume and have a cup of coffee. That was before the evening had taken its strange turn of events.  
  
Luckily, nothing had followed him from the ally. The demons probably thought they won. Hadn't they? The city was now theirs, theirs and the senior partners. It belonged to the darkness now. The ambiance had changed somehow, the air now held a sense of fear. Riots had begun; he could hear them a few blocks away. Probably humans who were striking out instead of dealing with their own panicked feelings. Part of him wished he were one of them again, hitting things and causing chaos to escape, but it had never worked before and he was different now. Wasn't he?  
  
A fire truck passed him, the noise of it temporarily waking Connor from the numbness that had enclosed around him. He blinked and watched it go by. It was too late; they were all too late. The city was going to fall to the hands of those who wanted it destroyed. Easy pickings.  
  
He remembered the last time Los Angeles had looked like this. Right after Jasmine had shown her true face, after peace had been lost. It was just one more memory he didn't want, but all the previously forgotten moments had been coming back to him lately. Connor tried everyday to push what had been out of his thoughts, consider it all one wacky nightmare he'd luckily woken up from, but it was impossible. Especially now, faced with such destruction.  
  
Walking down the road, he noticed a woman with obviously dyed blond hair holding a younger girl by the throat, pushing her against the side of a building. On a closer examination of the scene, he saw that the blond wasn't human. "Vampire," he said in a low voice. "Vampires I can handle."  
  
Darting across the street on light feet, unseen and unheard by the attacker, Connor raced towards the incident. While he might not have been enough to take care of the mass gathering of evil demons from the alleyway, one vampire would be a piece of cake.  
  
He could hear the girl sobbing, begging for her life, praying to God to let her live. Poor thing just wanted to get home, back to her parents. Quickly, Connor kicked a wooden box that had been sitting on the sidewalk with his foot, breaking it into pieces. Picking up one particularly jagged shard, he stood to face the vampire.  
  
She had already heard him, and was standing with one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her victims neck, "Do I bother you when you're trying to eat? I mean, like, don't you have an elsewhere to be?"  
  
"Do I know you," He asked as he fell into a fighting stance. He found it incredible the way his body moved into perfect position, as if it had never forgot how to fight, or how to win.  
  
"Probably not," The blond grabbed the struggling victim closer. The girl's eyes were filled with tears, as she was shoved closer to the blond's torso. "I rarely talk to nobodies. But if you must know, I'm Harmony, the big bad around here. Now scram."  
  
"Sorry. Can't." Connor punched her in the stomach, trying to avoid hitting the girl. He could have sworn he knew the vampire from somewhere. Her voice sounded so familiar, he just couldn't place it.  
  
Harmony came back swinging, but her fighting skills were not as good as his. Besides, she might break a nail trying to punch the kid, and she couldn't let that happen. She'd just had them manicured. Instead, she switched to kicking him, landing her first one hard against his shoulder, "This isn't what it looks like anyway. I was just walking her home," Harmony looked down at the girl, still clutched tightly with one arm, "She was all scared and junk and I said I'd look after her. I just got kinda hungry on the way."  
  
"Cravings," he nodded sarcastically, "They're a bitch." There was only one thing he was craving at the moment though, a little violence and a little death. The Destroyer was coming up to the surface, and he struck out with faster moves. The vampire was unable to block all of them, and after two successive punches she fell on her ass. With one hand, Connor grabbed for the girl, moving the victim behind him. Then, while the vampire was still on the ground, Connor took his stake and jammed it into her heart. Dust swirled up from her body as she died. It blew away on the wind and then the blond bimbo was no more.  
  
Connor looked at what he had done for a moment, letting the pride of a battle fought and won flow through his veins. The girl was crying behind him, and her quiet sobs broke him from the dazed amusement. Turning back to the victim, the first thing he noticed was how young she was. She shouldn't have been out on her own in the middle of the ruckus and riots that had broken out in the city that night, "Are you going to be alright?"  
  
She sobbed, wiping her eyes, and nodded, "I was just going to my friend's house. My parents grounded me, but I snuck out, I didn't mean to.. oh, god.. I didn't mean to.. wander so far off."  
  
"We never do," Connor said under his breath, then to the girl he said, "Go home. Your parents are probably worked sick."  
  
She nodded furiously, still shaken from her experience, "Right. I will. I promise. Thank you.. thank you so much." She started to cry again, while Connor spotted a taxi driving down the street. While she was preoccupied with trying to calm herself, Connor called over to the taxi. When it stopped for them, he explained to the cabbie that the girl needed help, and that her parents would most likely pay him if he drove her back home. As luck would have it, the guy actually agreed to Connor's deal.  
  
"Don't do this again," Connor told the girl as she got into the car. She smiled briefly at him through a face stained with tears. The car drove off as Connor watched it go. He had to admit; it felt good to be a champion, if he could call himself that. So far he was still just balancing the scales, making up for the past.  
  
Connor continued walking through the city streets, not really looking where he was going. He was concentrating on the vampire's voice. He knew it, but from where? Then the gaps started to fill in. She'd been the receptionist at Wolfram and Hart. When he visited the office the first time, with his fake parents, she'd greeted them with a big fake 'I'm so happy you're coming to us with your business now let me go back to enjoying my coffee break' grin.  
  
She had also been, if he recalled correctly, the one working with the guy Angel had fought before the building collapsed. Before he had joined the fight, Connor had waited out of sight in the hallway. The battle with Sahjahn had taken a toll on him emotionally, and he had hoped he wouldn't have to get into another one. Hidden from view, he had heard the whole conversation between Harmony and Angel, heard how she betrayed him. His father's own personal Judas. Remembering it now, he squeezed the stake he was still carrying tighter, feeling all the happier for having dusted the vamp.  
  
Suddenly, his feet stopped and his pace came to a halt. Connor glanced to his side, where an old fashioned hotel was standing. The Hyperion. He had just been walking blinding; following no real path, yet he'd wound up here. "How very ironic," he said as he walked towards the hotel. He gave a short laugh to the fates of the universe, and made his way to the front door. It was locked, closed and abandoned, but he managed to manipulate the lock and pick it. The door swung open, revealing the dusty insides of a lobby that hadn't been inhabited in months. He stepped over the threshold, closing the glass door behind him. It was dark inside, and lonesome. Still, at the moment it was the only place he could think of to go. Things were too jumbled in his head, his emotions going haywire. He couldn't return home, not like this. Not when there was so much going on.  
  
It was dark inside the hotel. The electric bill probably hadn't been paid since people had regularly lived there, but his eye quickly adjusted to the lack of light. Quor-toth had been like this, he remembered. Very dim and dark. His eyes were highly trained for night seeing.  
  
The place brought back so many memories for him. Jasmine, Angelus, Cordelia.. but there were the good things as well. Fred and him eating her home cooking during the summer he'd spent with her and Gunn. Angel and him singing karaoke together. Sure, it had a little goofy and in homage to a hell goddess bent on world domination through drugged-up peace and love. Connor still missed the short-lived good times though. He only wished there had been more of them.  
  
The stairs creaked as he climbed up to the second story. He walked to the second room on the left and opened the door. It had been his bedroom when he had stayed there a year ago. It hardly looked lived in now, but the memories were still there, floating around in the dust. All the things he had done, all the ways he had been wrong. Stepping back outside the room, he slammed the door shut, a little harder that he had wanted to. Locked away, he wouldn't have to look at the same four walls from before and all the moments contained between them. He took another step back, trying to shake off the feeling of regret. "Lighten up.. come on," he muttered to himself, "That was then. This is now." If only he could convince himself of that.  
  
He walked down the hallway, looking through each of the other rooms, remembering all the people who had once filled them. Gunn, Fred, Wesley, Cordelia. They'd all stayed at the hotel at one time or another, some lived there on a permanent basis. He'd wronged them all in so many ways. Hurt them. "Man," he softly said, passing by another bedroom, "I was a real dumbass."  
  
He stopped at the last room, opening it and walking inside. This had been his father's room, he could recall standing in the same spot two summers ago, and hoping no one would find out he'd sent Angel to the bottom of the ocean. How times had changed. Connor walked over to the window. After pushing heavy curtains away, he opened it and let a cool breeze flow through the room. Outside, he could still hear sirens going off through the night. Taking off his shoes, he chucked them on the floor and then climbed into the big bed that occupied the room. Listening to the sirens, he let them lull him into a restless sleep.  
  
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Give me feedback, or give me death! Well.. okay, not so much death. Death bad. But feedback still good. Very good. 


	4. Chapter 4

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 4  
  
By Vixen  
  
When Angel awoke, he found himself in a cage the size of a small jail cell, along with Spike and Illyria. The blue goddess has already awoken. She stood, motionless peering out through the slots with unblinking eyes. She was waiting, watching, getting ready to make her move. Angel groaned, feeling the after effects of the electricity that had shot through him. It must have been a pretty high voltage, he assumed by the size of the headache he now had. He looked over towards Spike; the younger vampire was still sleeping, but Angel was sure he'd be up soon enough and bothering the hell out of him again. Then he sat up a little straighter, realizing what was missing from this scene, "Gunn. Where's Gunn?"  
  
Illyria didn't look at him when she responded to his question. She continued to stand vigil, holding her anger just under the surface. In a steady voice she replied, "They have taken him."  
  
"They? They who?" Angel rose to his feet. The ground seemed to be moving slightly, but he presumed that was just the side effect of the nausea that had been caused by the attack. Gripping the wall, he willed himself not to fall over again. The day was just getting worse as it went on. He noticed his rain soaked jacket had since dried, and began to wonder just how long they had been knocked out.  
  
"The people here," Illyria answered him again, "I do not think they want to harm us, but I do not appreciate being locked away like an animal. When I was a divinity insignificant creatures such as them worshipped at my feet. My dominance was not taken lightly. My might was unmatched. Now they presume to fasten their restraint on me, to possess me and.."  
  
"Are you quite finished yet?" Spike grumbled as he started to wake up. He pushed himself into a seated position and leaned against the wall, getting as comfortable as he could in the new prison that held him.  
  
Angel sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. First he had to put up with Illyria ranting on about the good ol' days of godhood, and now Spike was up to make his life even more miserable. Where was a stake when he needed one? Though at the moment he didn't know if he'd rather stake Spike or himself. The day was definitely not getting better. He walked over towards the padlocked door of the cell; reaching his hand through the bars he made a grab for the lock. While Spike and Illyria continued to bicker between themselves, he focused on trying to rip the lock apart, hoping his vampire strength would be enough to break it open. He gave it a few good hard tugs, but it was no use. The thing was unbreakable, solidly holding them in the small cell until whoever had put them there came back.  
  
Spike was really getting into it with the shell now, turning his annoyance at being captured into verbal rivalry. Illyria was retailing in turn, picking him up by his shirt and just holding him in the air. She stared at him curiously while continued to mouth off to her, "Listen, Bluebird, you need to go get—"  
  
Angel turned his attention back to the two of them, crossing his arms and leaning against the cell's door, "Spike, why don't you make this situation better and just don't talk. Again. Ever."  
  
Illyria dropped the vampire, a small grin crossing her face before she walked to the other side of the cell. If she could feel human emotions, or admit to feeling them, the one she was experiencing at the moment was smug happiness at being the victor of the sparring match.  
  
Spike picked himself up off the floor and stomped over to the taller vampire, he smirked at him defiantly, "You're not the leader anymore, remember? Can't tell me what to do now."  
  
Angel growled low in his throat, remembering full well. He didn't want to be the one in charge anymore, but if that meant Spike was now the leader he figured he'd regret making that choice sooner or later. Choosing another tactic, Angel explained in as calm a voice as he could muster in the present situation, "Look, we've already lost members of our group, we've been captured, we still don't know what we're up against, and I think we should use our resources to try to figure a way out of here instead of fighting each other."  
  
Spike continued to glare at Angel for a little while longer, before he sighed and nodded, "Right. Suss out a plan, get out of here," he went over the to-do list in his head, before pointing toward Illyria, "Then you and me are going to have a rematch."  
  
"I look forward to it vampire," She said coldly. She always did enjoy sparring with the half-breed. It was fun to make him bleed or kick him across the room and watch him bounce across the floor. Strangely, he seemed to enjoy their matches just as much.  
  
There was a noise of footsteps coming closer to the cell. Two pair of them. Angel looked out the cell bars, into the rocky cavernous hallway. He was certain the cell was in a cave, but the walkway was too dark to make out much. The footsteps came closer, and he began to pick up Gunn's familiar scent, and another unfamiliar one. They came closer until they stood in front of the cell.  
  
"Gunn. Are you okay?" Angel asked, the other man looked to be unharmed; he even seemed a bit more relaxed then he had been before. He was wearing a new shirt, this one clean and unstained with blood. Still, despite all the reassuring sights, Angel wasn't going to be convinced so quickly when they were still being held captive.  
  
"Great, really," Gunn nodded; lifting up his shirt he showed a new bandage over his wound. "They just fixed me up is all. Fiyara nursed my sick ass back to health," he gestured to the young woman. She had blond wavy hair and a small bindi tattoo between her eyes. By all outward appearances, she was just an ordinary human. She carried a tray of food with her, complete with some bowl full of green liquid that smelt like blood. Angel's mouth watered, it had been a while since he'd last fed. Gunn's voice brought his attention back to the present, "Should warn you though, there's a catch."  
  
"You were found on our land," Fiyara spoke in a distant accent, "The slogs- "  
  
"Those are the big demon-y types we fought," Gunn butt in, filling in all the gaps for his friends.  
  
"Yes," Fiyara nodded to him and continued, "They had apparently beaten you badly. My tribe decided to help your friend out, he was in the worst shape of all. He almost died through loss of blood." She unlocked the door, "But there are those who still don't trust you. You are outsiders, and were not welcomed on our land." She narrowed her eyes, her voice now held a tone of irritation, "We still don't know what to do with you, so we've decided to keep you here until a consensus can be reached among us."  
  
Gunn walked into the cell, complacent with the woman's wishes. Somehow, despite being held as a prisoner, she had earned his trust. Angel caulked it up to them saving his life. He looked at the woman, as she brought in the tray of food and laid it on the floor for the four of them. "We could just leave quietly on our own, we didn't mean to bother you, or your clan. If we offended you or—"  
  
"You can't leave," She replied icily, "You now know where we live. Gunn knows our names and faces. There is too much distrust of you to let you just walk. I'm sorry, but until my people come to a decision, I can't do anything more."  
  
"Can't just keep us here, you know," Spike yelled as the woman shut the cell door again and pocketed the key. "We'll break out," he watched as she started to walk away, his words not making a dent in her plans. He pounded on the cell bars and yelled again, when she was further down the hallway, "You're going to be sorry, holding William the Bloody, you are. And I do not like this one bit."  
  
"Spike!" Angel shouted at him, "You're not helping them trust us anymore than they already do." He watched as the fight went out of the younger vampire and Spike sat down in the corner again. Spike fumed quietly, but at least he wasn't hindering their reputation any further. They were given shelter and food, and if they all continued to keep their cool they might make it out of there in a few days. That would be enough time for the clan to earn their trust, he hoped.  
  
Spike picked up a bowl of the green liquid, having smelt the blood as well. He dipped a finger into the liquid and licked it off. "Hmm.. tastes all right. Don't think it's poisoned."  
  
"Too bad," Angel secretly wished it were, just so he'd be rid of Spike once and for all. His stomach growled a bit, and he quickly forgot about the secret wish and was just glad to have something to eat. While he drank the cool liquid, he listened to Gunn talk about the rest of the cave system that the clan lived in. He'd made mental maps, memorizing each of the tunnels he entered when he had been treated for his ailments. Smart strategy, Angel reflected. Knowing the routes and different pathways would help if the situation worsened and they needed to escape. Though, he was still sticking to the original plan of pretending to be the calm and collected pacifist, instead of resorting to violence. Fiyara had seemed nice enough, and right now more than anything they needed allies. They were alone in this world, not used to its rules or dangers.  
  
It was going to be a long hard learning process Angel did not look forward to. However, without Wesley around anymore they had no one amongst them adept enough to work the magic to get them home. He let the other's continued their conversation about their new accommodations by themselves as he began to fall into a deep brood. Wesley was gone. The truth hadn't really filtered in before now; he'd been too busy with the fight, too busy just trying to stay alive, or undead at least. He hadn't trusted the English-bred man to take care of himself in fight when Wesley had first arrived in Los Angeles. Honestly, the Rogue Demon Hunter as he had called himself annoyed him more than he let show. They'd continue to have their differences throughout the years, the biggest one being when Wesley had taken Connor, but through it all they had remained friends. Allies. Common champions.  
  
It was Angel's lot in life to lose those close to him; he'd accepted it as part of the immortality package. He'd built up walls through the past so that no one would get close to him, yet some special ones had managed to worm their way into his heart, showing him that he had one even though it didn't beat anymore. Doyle, Fred, Cordelia, Wesley, they had all been important to him in some way, and he had lost each of them.  
  
He looked at the three other people who occupied the jail cell, wondering how long it would be until he lost them too. True, Spike and Illyria persistently pissed him off, but he'd become accustomed to their bickering and teasing. He'd do what he could to protect them, whether or not he could shanshu anymore. He'd never fought for the shanshu before, not completely. He'd done it to keep things safe, to keep things from breaking down, to keep them whole. Being a hero still didn't appeal to him anymore, and he was tired of leading others to their deaths, but he'd still protect those around him. If for no other reason then they kept him from fading away completely.  
  
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	5. Chapter 5

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 5  
  
By Vixen  
  
Alone in the hotel, Connor tossed and turned violently in bed. Images haunting him, coming back to him, keeping him from peace as he lay sleeping restlessly.  
  
Connor could see a place in his mind, a city street in Los Angeles. He knew this place; it had all fallen apart here. All the dreams his father had for him when he was an infant, questions of whether he would grow up to be a teacher or a police officer or break the home run record in baseball, they had all vanished in this very spot. So many possibilities and choices ripped from him, from them both, in one instant of revenge from a past foe. He'd been so small, barely even a month old when his choices had been narrowed down to one. He would grow up to be the Destroyer.  
  
In his mind's eye he looked on in horror as it played out for once more for him, reliving all the details in grisly surround sound. He couldn't recall exactly how it had all played out the first time, but when he thought about it the scene was always the same.  
  
The portal started as a small thing, barely noticeable. A small innocent tear in the fabric of time and space, taken for granted, nothing to be afraid of.  
  
It grew in shape and color next. Reds mixed with orange tones, the edges of the darkness glowing with the hellfire that made up the rivers and lakes in Quor-toth.  
  
The portal grew larger, unwilling to be ignored. It swallowed up everything in its path, till it covered the whole end of the street. Everything within the dimension could be seen clearly now, al the monsters he would have to face in the coming years, the elements he would rage against. The loomed before him; waiting for him.  
  
They had hurt him there, destroyed his soul before it had a chance to grow. The demons there had done their best to rip him apart, but he had grown strong. He grew to be the Destroyer, with only the ranting dialogue of another broken madman bent on revenge as company.  
  
He had learned to hate his real father before he could even speak. His first sentence, Holtz liked to tell him whether it was true or not, was 'Angel bad'. He knew what his guardian wanted to hear, and at such a young age he also knew hate. It was either accept the brainwashing or lose his only protection from the horrors of that world. Even at such a young age the choice was clear.  
  
He could picture a fight by the portal, right before the inevitable had happened. A fight between his real father and the man who would shape him into a weapon, every night they battled over his fate, every night he watched Angel fail.  
  
At some point during the fight, Holtz would get the upper hand through some sneaky maneuver, some slight of hand unseen until it was too late. Defeated, Angel fell to the ground in pain.  
  
Connor saw himself as a child in the next scene, still by the open portal, struggling to get away from it, struggling to reach Angel who was still lying on the ground. With the winds whipping around, it was hard to move against the flow of the inevitable. Everything was dragging him down, but it only made Connor exert more effort in trying to get away from the portal, he wasn't going to give up the fight.  
  
Crawling on the street, clinging to the gravel, the young boy moved towards his father. Angel looked at him, unable to move against the winds, and reached out his hand for his son. It was so close, Connor just had to get to him and everything would be fine, he would be saved a life of torment and he'd grow up normal, and happy, and everything would be fine.  
  
Little fingers grasped out for his father's hand, briefly touching, just a little bit closer. He pushed forward a little bit more, at last wrapping his hand around his father's, the portal's grasp held strong though. Angel looked his son in the eyes, his emotions playing across his face. He knew he wasn't strong enough to keep fate from playing out, though he was still willing himself to hold on tightly.  
  
Connor saw the expression, the lost hope, and pleaded, "Please don't let go." He could see himself now, a little older, still holding on and begging with those same words. "Please don't let go." The years continued to pass him by, as he lay in the middle of the street, clinging to his father. "No, you have to hold on, you just have to—"He could see his father losing strength, unable to keep up the fight, as Connor grew into a teenager. All his life he had been holding on, but it wasn't going to change anything. Eventually, their grip broke, and Connor felt his hand sliding from his father's own, and then the space between them grew larger.  
  
"Don't let go. Please, Dad, you just have to hold on.. don't let him take me.."  
  
They stared at each other for a long horrifying moment, each of them knowing what was coming next. Connor dug his hands into the cement road, his finger nails scraping against the black tar, and he reached out for his father once more but Angel was too far away and there was no going back. "No, no, no.. Don't let go, please don't--" Connor woke up in a tangle of black bed sheets, jumping up in bed he breathed hard, trying to remember where he was and that he was safe.  
  
Light from the streetlamp outside on the street was coming through the window, casting a soft glow around the room. As he ran a hand through his long hair, he felt tiny beads of sweat on the brow of his head. Without any electric to run the air conditioning in the hotel, the air was muggy in the heat of late spring.  
  
Tossing the sheets aside furiously, Connor sat on the edge of the bed. His hands gripped the mattress as he pushed the nightmare out of his mind. He'd been having them ever since he got his memories back; the past seemed unwilling to stay buried.  
  
Consciously, he could differentiate between the Old and the New. The Old was not important, the New was what he had become, what he was today. People had sacrificed so much, too much, to bring the New into the world, to fix the Old, to forget the Old. Consciously, he could deal with the past, day by day.  
  
Subconsciously, it was eating him alive.  
  
He pushed himself out of bed, and looked at the time. 5:03. At least he had gotten more sleep than he usually did. Feeling lost, he walked across the room. A cool early morning breeze flowing into the room swayed the curtains back and forth. Taking off his shirt, he stood in front of the open window, letting the air cool his skin, relaxing in the feeling of the light breeze. The rain had stopped; only a few drops fell from the now wet building, dripping rhythmically down from the gutters. There was the smell of ozone in the air, like after a thunderstorm. Connor took it all in, every detail from around him, reminding him that his life was better now. He wasn't in Quor-toth anymore, and he'd never have to go back there. Now if only he could loosen up and forget that place every existed.  
  
Far away he could hear sirens, there was still trouble out there. He'd have to protect them; the normal humans who couldn't fight against what had been unleashed upon the city by the senior partners. He'd come to that conclusion last night. As much as Connor would have loved to return to his other life, his normal life, he had been led to the hotel for a reason. There was work to be done, and he was the only one in the city strong enough to do it. He detested the fight; it wasn't him, that's what he had told Angel after he beat Sahjahn. Still, he could just turn his back from the helpless.  
  
There was also the problem of the portal. Somehow he had to find a way to reopen it. "Portals.. Why does it always have to be portals," Connor frowned, lost in thought. His life had seemingly revolved around them, and each time one had opened his life had gotten a hell of a lot worse. It was the reason he didn't like magick before, the reason he still didn't like magick now. It made things complicated. He couldn't just leave them there though. Angel, Spike, Illyria, Gunn.. he wondered if they were okay. What if they were stuck in another hell dimension? Was that what being a hero got you, a one-way trip to a nightmarish world?  
  
He turned back to the clock, and sighed knowing that it would have been impossible to get back to sleep. There were too many worries in his mind, and too much to be done. Wandering into the bathroom, he stopped in front of the mirror. His reflection starred back at him. He looked at his neck, checking for the missing scar on his neck. He'd gotten it right before getting his new life; when he had fought his father in the mall. It was the first thing he always did in the morning, it had quickly become a habit. If it were there, then everything that had happened to him since the day in the mall would mean nothing. His new family wouldn't exist, and he'd have to go back to being who he used to be. It was never there; he knew it would never be there again; still every day when he woke up he had to check. Just to make sure.  
  
He turned the sink's faucet, wondering if the water had been switched off along with the electric. When nothing came out, he sighed. "We're gonna have to fix that later," Connor yawned. He didn't have enough money to get the whole hotel up and running again, but it was the only place he felt comfortable at the moment. He'd make it livable somehow. Adding that to his to-do list, he turned his attention to the things he had to do that day. For now he had to go home and pack his stuff. He'd make up some lie to tell his parents, so he could come live here. It was going to have to be a pretty big lie, he imagined.  
  
Connor couldn't get them involved with this though, it was bad enough he was already involved, but he had to do what he could to protect his new family. It was strange; technically he hardly knew them. He'd only really spent a few months living in their house, being a part of their family. The fake memories were still with him though, he clung to them, he couldn't lose them. His sanity depended on the past Christmases he had not really lived, the family picnics, road trips to visit Yellowstone National Park. They went there every summer, since Connor had been five. He smiled. It didn't matter that it wasn't real.  
  
Grabbing his shirt, he put it back on. He found his shoes in a pile on the side of the room and slipped into them. Once he slipped his jacket on, he headed downstairs. If he made it back to the suburbs quick enough, he could just slip in his bedroom window before anyone woke up. Hopefully, they wouldn't even notice that he had been gone, and he wouldn't get grounded for life.  
  
Before leaving the building, he locked the door behind himself and looked back once more at the darkened lobby. He'd be back soon.  
  
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Feedback, please? Pretty pretty please? 


	6. Chapter 6

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 6  
  
By Vixen  
  
Connor was headed home. It wasn't his real home, but as the city started to get further away he felt a little more at peace with himself and the situation he had found himself in. It was the distance, he assumed as he watched the Los Angeles skyline fade into the horizon while the bus drove advanced into the suburbs. With the distance came a stillness where he could be just another happy college student, or at least pass himself off as one.  
  
That morning, he had hoped he would have been able to get an earlier bus, but the only one on the schedule that went anywhere near his neighborhood left at eight o'clock. He'd spent a few hours just walking around the city, watching the police. The city leaders had called in extra law enforcement to stop the previous night's riots. So far they seemed to have a handle on the humans who had been causing problems, though the demons were still running rampant unable to be stopped by a few more police squads.  
  
The news hadn't reported anything on the various demon hordes however, they never did. The citizens of the city lived in blissful ignorance. Connor frowned as he looked at the cover of a newspaper another passenger on the bus was reading, blissful ignorance used to be so nice. He could remember watching the news with his sister when a 'multi-day eclipse' had blocked out the sun. The reporters had gone through a lot of trouble, showing a lot of scientific reasoning to get those watching to believe that it was a normal occurrence. He'd even written a paper on it for his high school astronomy class.  
  
The bus came to a stop in front of Elridge High School. It was only a block from his house; the town was pretty small compared to the city. Connor walked off the bus and checked his watch; it was almost nine. He started running, full-strength, hoping he might just make it to his house before anyone woke up. It was a Saturday, so maybe if luck was on his side and everyone decided to sleep in that day no one would find out about his little disappearance.  
  
He stopped just as he reached the edge of the pathway that led to his house, the base of his sanctuary. Creeping the rest of the way down the pathway that was shrouded with trees, lots of which he had climbed at one point in his life to the dismay of his parents who worried that he would fall out of one of them one day and break his neck. Boys would be boys however, and with his extra special abilities and almost-acrobatic balance he had been highly adept at reaching the highest branches. Which came in handy for sneaking in his bedroom undetected, but he had only learned this a month ago. Before that time, he had never snuck out behind his parent's back. Not even when his girlfriend had asked him to one night. Though, when he started having nightmares, when things started coming back to him, every so often he'd leave during the night to go walk around the block and think for a bit.  
  
He swung his foot over a branch of the tree, and leaned over to his window, opening it while trying to keep his balance. After a moment of jiggling it, he was able to push the window open. Then, swinging his feet to the window ledge, Connor carefully slipped in to his bedroom. He stumbled a bit, but landed with both feet on the floor. He visibly relaxed, that had been simple enough.  
  
Unfortunately, little sisters often make things difficult.  
  
If she hadn't been passing by the open door of his bedroom right then, he might have gotten away with it. However, Linda had spotted him and when she did her eyes lite up in anticipation, "Ooooh, you are in soooo much trouble."  
  
She opened her mouth to yell for their parents, who would most certainly have a few lectures waiting for Connor. Before she could get the words out, however, Connor was standing next to her holding his hand to her mouth. Ushering her inside his room, he put on the most innocent big brother act possible, "Linda.. who's your favorite brother in the whole world?" She only rolled her eyes at him, so he dropped the act and decided to go a different route, "Okay, how much will it cost me?" He walked over to his dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out his wallet. "Five dollars." The teenage girl held one hand on her hip and the other held out before him, waiting, "And you have to drive me to the mall anytime I want."  
  
"Fine," Connor held the money out, wondering how the kid had gotten so skilled at bargaining. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad I was out all night, okay?"  
  
"Oh, they already know." She told him, as she snatched the money away.  
  
Connor was taken back, "Then why did I just give you five dollars?"  
  
She wrinkled her nose and smirked, "Cause I'm sneaky." Then before he said anything more, she ran off with his money, her long brunette hair trailing behind her. Oh, the joys of having a little sister.  
  
Connor walked out to the hallway, calling after her as she skipped down the stairs, "Well, you can forget about me driving you to the mall, then." She appeared happy enough to just have gotten the better of him. He sighed, and only then realized that his mother was standing in the hallway, walking towards him with a stern look on her face. "Oh, um, hi Mom." He smiled innocently, hoping the act would fool her better than it had worked on his sister. Backing away, he went back to his bedroom, but she only followed him in there and began the lecture he had known was coming.  
  
"Connor, where have you been, your father and I have been worried sick. We spent half the night calling your friends, and the other half calling the police."  
  
Thinking fast, he began making up excuses on the fly. He mingled the fibs with a bit of truth, which was in his experience, the best way to lie. "I was in the city, you know, and I was filling out the resume. I was going to finish that and go to a few job interviews afterwards, but I met someone I knew at the coffee shop. Angel, you remember him right? Big tall broody guy who we met at Wolfram and Hart. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him about the resume and wanting to get an intern position somewhere. That's when he offered me a job working for him." Nothing Connor had seen on the news had even mentioned Wolfram and Hart collapsing, the senior partners probably wanted to protect themselves from the bad publicity. It had actually worked out in Connor's favor for this particular lie. "They have an opening for someone with my um.. abilities. He even hooked me up with a great apartment; it's one of the company perks. Then a bunch of riots started in the city last night, and I decided it would just be better to stay there."  
  
Connor had avoided his mother's eyes while speaking, busying himself with taking out his duffle bag suitcase. When he finished, he looked up. Hiding his uncertainty, he watched his mother's face for any sign that she was not buying his story. There was none, she only shook her head and told him, "You should have called us at least."  
  
Inwardly, he rejoiced. She had bought it. She was still a little annoyed at him, but that would blow over. "I tried to call, but the line was busy, or maybe it was just my cell phone not working again. It's been a little screwy lately." Another effective lie.  
  
His mother bit her lip, thinking over what she was going to say. He knew that look. There was something more on his mother's mind though, something she didn't want to bring up. Eventually she did voice her concern, much his dismay, "Connor.. it's not just this one incident. Ever since we found out that you were a little different, your father and I have been worried sick. You've been acting differently lately. I'm just not sure you moving out to the city is such a good idea."  
  
He continued packing his clothes while she was speaking; when she finished he tied up the end of the duffle bag. His mind was made up. He had to do this. Easing her worries, he replied, "Mom, it's okay. Really. I know what I'm doing, and I know that I need to do this. It's time for me to get out there, do my own thing. I have to find out who I really am and what I want out of life. Just because I'm a little.. stronger than most people my age, doesn't mean I'm a freak or a nutcase or anything." He jokingly grinned, easing the tension with some humor. "I just have to figure some stuff out, on my own."  
  
She nodded, "A home cooked meal's only a bus ride away, just remember that, okay?"  
  
"Sure, Mom."  
  
Connor stopped off at the library before he left for the city. Searching through the obituaries in the computer center, he pulled up the one he had been looking for. He didn't know how he knew she was gone, no one had told him. In a way, he didn't need to be told. She hadn't been at Wolfram and Hart when he first visited, and he knew she would have been fighting alongside his father in the alleyway the night before if she had been alive. Despite going evil for a few months there, he knew she couldn't be kept from the good fight. It was a part of her; she had been all glowy when she was alive, her soul was pure. He understood now why she had betrayed everyone around her; it hadn't been her fault. She'd been used. Hadn't they all?  
  
When her name came up on the computer, for an instant he didn't want to believe it. The name and the date of her death starred back at him, unyielding however. He read it to himself, letting the proof sink in, "Cordelia Chase. May 22nd, 1980 - February 4th, 2004." There was a blurb in the online newspaper about her life, her friends she left behind, and where the burial service was going to be held.  
  
Connor moved away from the computer, not knowing what to feel exactly. They hadn't really been in love, not really. Still, the news hurt. It was an hour-long bus ride to the cemetery where she was buried, giving him plenty of time to think over what he would do when he got there. When he got to the nice little shady graveyard in the city, however, he still didn't know what to do.  
  
Sitting down on a nearby bench, he looked at her gravestone. "Cordelia.. I don't know what to say.. I only used you to get back at my father," he shrugged, and continued offhandedly, "but in my defense, you did use me to bring about a bouncing baby hell goddess into the world. So.. I guess we're even."  
  
He sat there for a while, just watching, wondering if she was out there somewhere doing the same. The late afternoon sun mingled with the shadows of the high canopy of the oak trees overhead, the light and dark areas dancing with one another. Connor rose to his feet, about to leave when a last thought occurred to him. Turning back towards the gravestone he spoke, "I'm going to make it better. We really messed things up last time, you.. me.. Jasmine." He paused, nodding, "But I'm going to make it better, fix things. I promise."  
  
.......................  
  
F is for Feedback.. that's good enough for me. 


	7. Chapter 7

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 7  
  
By Vixen  
  
Spike sat with his head resting against the wall of the prison, singing to himself, partly to entertain himself and partly to piss everyone else off, "Oh, I'm looking over my dead dog Rover who I've overlooked before. One leg is spinning, the other is gone, the third leg is scattered all over the lawn. No need explaining, the one that's remaining is spinning on the carport floor.. oh I'm looking over my dead dog Rover who I hit with the power mower."  
  
"Man, I guess that's better than when you were singing 100 bottles of beer," Gunn commented.  
  
"I can't help it," Spike said, pacing the floor. He ran a hand over his hair, "There is nothing to do in this bloody holding cell. I'm going out of my mind." Looking out through the bar of the cell, Spike couldn't see anyone coming so he banged on the door again. The hundredth time might be the charm, he supposed. It hadn't worked so far though, and he'd been trying to bash it open every few minutes since he'd woken up.  
  
A woman from Fiyara's tribe had come down to see them about an hour ago. She had told them that the tribe's elders were willing to talk to them that night, to see if they could work out a deal. Though they hadn't heard anything about it after that. So now Gunn was stuck there, bored out of his minds, with only Spike's singing to keep him company. He had tried having a conversation with Angel, but the vampire seemed too far into brood-mode to say much of anything. He now appeared to be deep in thought, but whatever he was going over in his mind he wasn't sharing.  
  
Gunn had also given up trying to talk to Illyria, who only seemed content while talking about her glory days. Those days were far behind her, but when her spirit had been crushed she returned to the old reminiscences. Days like things like this didn't happen to her. Days when she didn't have the feelings she did now for those she used to think of as an inferior race. She had said she felt grief when Wesley died. Of course it all made sense for Gunn now, well not a lot of sense, but the pieces fit together now. She had fallen in love with Wesley before he died, if that was even possible, and Gunn severely doubted that it was. Still, there had been the brief moments at Wolfram and Hart when he thought something odd might be going on between the two of them. Now though, without Wesley would she continue to fight on their side? So far she had been loyal to them, but Gunn would never trust her completely.  
  
Once more to everyone's dismay, Spike began humming softly, pacing the small area in front of the door.  
  
Suddenly, Angel stood up craning his neck listening to something, "Be quiet." The other vampire gave him an indignant glance and continued, louder this time. This only made Angel yell louder, "Spike, shut up!" He then continued in a lower voice, still listening to sounds coming from above them, "I think I hear something.. fighting, screaming, something's going on."  
  
"And we should care why?" Spike questioned, "Need I remind you that they're the ones that stuck us in this cage, mate? Blow the lot of them up. Won't mind a bit."  
  
Ignoring him, Angel pulled out two bolts from the door and pushed it aside. The metal door fell to the ground with a heavy thud that thundered through the cavernous hallway. Moving past the doorway, Angel made his way out into the hallway. The others quickly followed behind him. It might not look good for their innocent non-offending reputation, but if there was a battle going on, there was work to be done.  
  
Spike stared after Angel, confounded, "You knew! You knew this whole time how to break out. Why didn't you tell anyone, you stupid git?"  
  
Angel stopped for a moment. After asking Gunn which way to go, since he seemed to know his way around the place, more than anyone else did at least. Turning to Spike he answered, "I only figured out the weakness in the door's hinges when the girl came down here to talk to us an hour ago."  
  
"And you still didn't say anything?" Spike followed at Gunn led the way down one pathway, apparently making up his mind on the right direction to go. By the slope of the cave's rocky bottom, they seemed to be heading upward. "Mind telling me why you didn't share that with the rest of the class?"  
  
"I had hoped we wouldn't have to break out. It wouldn't look good in front of the tribe."  
  
"Oh, the hell with them." Spike saw a faint light in the distance, sunlight. They were almost at the mouth of an opening of the cave. The sounds of fighting were louder now, mixed with the sounds of people in pain. Upon smelling the blood from the battle, a surge of adrenaline coursed through him. The fight was what he lived for, the sensation of beating an opponent senseless, crushing their bones, hearing their last final breath. It was like a drug. He might be working for the side of good now, but death was still a large part of who he was.  
  
"Spike, if we can get in good with these people we might have a chance to learn from them. We're all clueless in this dimension, we need help." As an afterthought Angel added, "Well, you're just clueless in general but—"His voice cut off as they came to the edge of the cave's mouth. Outside, a yellowish demon about ten feet tall was making a massacre of a bunch of humans, warriors by the looks of it. It then occurred to him that they had no weapons, and they'd be fighting barehanded. Damn.  
  
Fiyara was standing by the opening. She was looking at the scene helplessly as it played out before her. Angel walked over to her, "I'm guessing the big one is the bad guy?"  
  
Turning sharply at the sound of his voice she asked, "What are you doing up here?"  
  
"Thought you could use our help." Without skipping a beat he asked, "How do we kill it?"  
  
"Take this," Relenting to Angel's desire to assist them, she chucked a sword over to the vampire. It was then that he saw she was bleeding from a gash in her thigh. She'd probably been out there as well, before coming back when she saw there was nothing her tribe's warriors could do to fight the demon off. What chance did four champions from another dimension have then? With a cold glance at the demon she gestured towards the sword, "Jam it through its brain."  
  
Well, that seemed simple enough.  
  
If only the demon wasn't so big, even reaching its head was going to be a challenge.  
  
"Hey, don't the rest of us get sharp pointy things too?" Spike pouted as the group began to prepare to go once more out into the breach. He shook it off; he could handle it with his bare fists. He did have his vampire strength after all, and a good bit of experience with these types of things. It looked just like a Yarowl demon from back home, and they were pushovers. He had killed a few in his time.  
  
Illyria also looked ready. Her eyes were locked on the demon, already searching out its weakness, looking for a common thread in its attacks. "I want to make it squeal in pain," was all she said before beginning to climb down the few rocks that led out of the cave. Spike followed her, apparently having the same agenda.  
  
Gunn was about to join them when Angel pointed at him, "Stay here."  
  
"But—"They both knew he hadn't healed completely yet, but staying out of the fight just didn't seem right to Gunn. It felt like a cop out. He wasn't about to let his friends down, or show any weakness on his part.  
  
Angel seemed to understand the need to keep up the brave façade. Gesturing towards Fiyara, whose pain was becoming more evident and pronounced, he told Gunn, "Help her." Then brandishing the sword, he nodded, "We'll be fine."  
  
Gunn watched the beginning of the fight, the demon was strong but he knew his friends could take care of it. They'd seen worse, and always came back alive. Well, most of them did. Wesley hadn't. Shaking the grief out of his thoughts, Gunn did as Angel had said and helped Fiyara.  
  
Wrapping one of her arms around his neck, he helped to support her weight. She stumbled a bit as he escorted her down to find a doctor. Wincing in pain, she told him, "Your friends are very brave."  
  
"Yeah.." Gunn replied in a confident tone, "They're champions, all right. No need to worry about them." Though he did. Death had always been accepted in his life, it was just the way things went. Back in the day, he had sold his soul for a pick-up truck just because he thought he would have been dead long before anyone ever came to collect on that bargain. Now though, when he finally had people who mattered to him, death began to loom in front of them, an unwelcome visitor.  
  
Outside, the battle still raged on. The warriors from Fiyara's tribe had pulled out a bit; they stood on the outskirts of the skirmish with Angel, Spike and Illyria replacing the wounded. For humans, the warriors had put up a valiant fight, but it was still an unfair fight pitting a demon of this strength against those with no supernatural abilities.  
  
Illyria kicked the demon in what looked like its shin, it couldn't be certain if it was exactly with its strange anatomy. It didn't matter though, as long as it hurt it. From the looks of things, when the demon cried out in pain, it had. She smiled, and threw another kick at its other leg-like part.  
  
Spike joined her, but the demon tossed him aside easily. When he landed hard on a bunch of rocks he groaned, "Bollocks." He got to his feet once more, stomping back to the evil thing, "That thing's just not fighting fair." It would only make the victory that much sweeter.  
  
For his part, Angel was hacking away with the sword, but he was unable to get anywhere near the head of the thing. For one thing, the demon kept swatting at him relentlessly, and for another, well it was really very tall.  
  
The demon kicked Illyria, making her jump backwards and crash into Spike. They landed in a pile together. She picked herself up, brushed off her catsuit, and glared at him. A derisive sound escaped her lips, "Insufferable vampire!"  
  
While they were preoccupied, Angel planned out his next attack with the help of a dozen of the tribe's warriors. The thing turned to see what he was doing, but missed the planning session. With an almost animalistic sound in its voice it asked the vampire, "I will crush you."  
  
"You can try." Angel dared it on. Then he shot a look between the thing's towering legs, to the gathering of humans behind it. He nodded, "Now!"  
  
At once the humans rushed the creature. Spike and Illyria sensed what Angel had in mind and joined the massive stampede. The demon tumbled downward, unaware of the attack from behind until it was too late. When it's full weight came careening towards Angel, who still stood in front of it, he began to think this might possibly be a bad plan. He had intended to be the bait, to lure the demon's attention away from the other assault. Being the bait really sucked, Angel realized when he had no time to get out from under the thing before it fell on him. He held the sword upwards when it came crashing down, the tip of it slicing through the creature's brain as it fell.  
  
It took a moment to get the creature off of Angel; its weight had nearly knocked him out. When he rolled out from under it, Spike was grinning at him in delight, "That was your plan, have it fall on you?"  
  
"Hey, it worked."  
  
.......................................  
  
See that little box down there that says 'submit review'. Yeah, you get karma points if you click on it. 


	8. Chapter 8

First a quick note: Sorry this chapter is a little late, folks. We had a small family crisis here today.  
  
After the Storm  
  
Chapter 8  
  
By Vixen  
  
It was quiet on the Santa Monica pier that afternoon. Most people had decided to play it safe and stay tucked away in their cozy home and Hollywood penthouses upon hearing the new. More riots, more violence, more unnamed demons enjoying their reprieve without champions to strike back at them. The police had made a series of arrests of the human sort, but nothing could keep the danger away, or the feeling that something dark and foreboding was right around the corner.  
  
Even the ocean had grown rough and rocky in the aftermath of the Black Thorn's shake up. Whitecaps covered its wide expanse, making the water look dark and murky. The gusts that blew across the shoreline hit Connor in the face, his brown hair riled up into a frenzy of activity. He, on the other hand, was still as he walked against the wind down one dock.  
  
It had seemed a good idea at the time. The cemetery where Cordelia was buried was only a short walk from the pier. Connor had decided to stop by one of the delicatessens since there was no food back at the hotel, get a sandwich (ham, lettuce, and tomato. His favorite, just like his mother used to make on family picnics), and then enjoy some sun and general people watching.  
  
He thought he would be able to handle it, the ocean full of past memories and moments best left forgotten. The spot where he and Justine had dropped his father down into the deep-sea was miles away, but it didn't matter. It was the same ocean, the same waters. He only wondered if he was the same person.  
  
It had been a test. Connor knew this. Subconsciously he had wanted to know how bad it would feel confronting this particular past misdeed. Honestly, it felt like crap.  
  
He wouldn't leave however, and only unwrapped his sandwich and sat down on one of the weathered wooden benches that faced the water. He couldn't run forever. If he was getting back into the game, Connor needed to know how far the guilt ran. He still wasn't sure why he was back in LA at all. Was it just to save the others, or atone for the past? Or did he really want to become a champion, a hero?  
  
The part of him who had grown up in the quiet suburban community he had just left behind admitted being a hero would be cool. Comic books had been one of his dorky kid obsessions; he always wanted some kind of superpower to make him unique. It was the reason he thought Wolfram and Hart was so cool the first time he had visited, better than college. It was the reason he had taken it all in stride. However, when the whole truth finally came out, he had been left to ponder what was so special about being unique anyway. It only complicated things and brought up questions Connor didn't think he'd ever have the answers for.  
  
The waves slapped against the base of the docks, spraying mist into the air. It fell against Connor's skin, the cool salty ocean water breaking him from the multitude of questions. Packing up the remainder of his lunch, Connor stowed it away in his duffel bag. It was time to start heading back to the hotel, the new base of operations. He made a mental note to pick up some candles on the way back, and started down the dock.  
  
It was then that he noticed it. Down on the beach, three rather large and hairy demons were playing monkey in the middle with a pair of humans, shoving them around, toying with them. Connor shook his head, "Looks like more trouble." Then a giddy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to anticipate the action, "Oh goody."  
  
Hoping over the boardwalk's railing, Connor landed on the beach below. His feet sunk into the sand, and kicked up around his heels. It had been a quiet landing; the demons hadn't noticed him yet. Good. That meant he still had the element of surprise.  
  
The humans had seen him though, and the expressions on their faces gave him away. They were overjoyed, but Connor was soon spotted. Damn. Quickly, Connor moved into action. He ran over to the melee and chucked his duffle bag at one of the hairy demons. Surprised by the sudden weight coming careening towards it's torso, the demon fell over with an oomph.  
  
"Hey, guys," Connor smiled his 'gee whiz, isn't is a great day' smile. The demons were not amused. Connor seemed to be enjoying the scene though, "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"  
  
One of the demons pointed its long bony finger at him, "You're most impetuous for a human."  
  
"Gee, really? Thanks," Connor spit out dryly. He watched as the demon that had fallen rose back onto its feet. Together with the other two, they turned from their original prey and came in closer towards Connor, amazed by his rash display of stupidity and the strength in his fighting stance.  
  
The demon that had spoken came closer, challenging the boy. "You're most welcome to join, human, we always need more food on the menu."  
  
"I kinda had a different plan in mind," Connor threw a wild right hook at its face, shattering its jaw with the blow. "How about I kick your ass and then later I kill you? How's that work for you, huh?" He pushed his elbow up and into another demon's chin. "Besides, your 'meal' already ran away while you were busy with me." The boy and girl, probably a romantic college couple by the looks of it, were already running down the beach. They hadn't even bothered to say thanks or see if Connor was okay. Not that the boy minded, he probably would have done the same thing if it had been a few months earlier.  
  
"You made us lose our dinner," The only speaking demon said through its broken jaw. Connor was surprised how eloquent his speak was, even after hearing the shattering of bones before. It didn't even seem to be in that much pain; this could be a problem. "And you are too puny to be much of a feast."  
  
"Hey, who are you calling puny," Connor said as the other two grabbed a hold of his arms, trapping him for the time being. His mind ran at full steam trying to figure out a way around this situation. The speaking-demon came closer to him, smiling at its lackeys. They thought they had him and Connor was beginning to admit they might be right.  
  
"No matter, you will do for now. At least for me. My minions can enjoy their suppers later when we track down those who you let get away." It came closer still, breathing in Connor's face. It scrapped one long silvery nail from its claw down his chin. The boy didn't even flinch; he didn't want to give the thing the benefit of his pain. "This city does not belong to you humans anymore. There's no one to stop us from doing what ever we wish. Not anymore."  
  
"That's what you think. But you know what," Connor did a flip kick, hitting the speaking-demon in its head, while twisting out of the other's grasp, "There's still me!" He unleashed everything he had then, spilling out every emotion that had been building inside of him within the past day. All the pain, regret, everything he could not change, he took it out on those three demons. They didn't stand a chance once the Destroyer had been let loose.  
  
Connor didn't even know what had happened. By the time he knew it, the three things were lying by his feet, dead. He had let go of his animal instincts. It was amazing how easy it was once he let go, of everything. Yet now, he felt a little used. He'd open up his emotions, let go of the part of himself he had tried to bury, but it had been necessary. He shuddered, feeling too close to the old Connor.  
  
When he got over his initial shock, Connor stood over the three demons, wondering who was going to have to clean the mess up. He wasn't going to do it; he'd already killed the things. Body removal was not part of the hero's job description. He sighed, if only his mother hadn't taught him better than to leave his mess around for someone else to clean up. Eventually he decided to just drag the three of them into the ocean and let the tide take care of the rest. He grunted as he pushed the last one into the waves, "The things they don't teach you in comic books."  
  
He unrolled the cuffs of his pants and slipped back into his sneakers, he'd taken them off so they wouldn't get wet when he dragged the disgusting hairy corpses into the water. He stopped suddenly as he pushed the second shoe onto his foot. There was something out there watching him, stalking him, just waiting for the right moment to make its move. The presence made no sound, couldn't be smelt or sniffed out. It just was. Connor looked over his shoulder, feeling the one emotion he hated most of all, the feeling of being hunted.  
  
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he whispered, making a slow turn. His gaze paused over every piece of scenery, carefully making a full audit of his surroundings. The thing would never be able to catch him off guard, Connor would make sure of that. He stood his ground, daring it to make the first move, but it didn't. Hidden somewhere within the shadows, it was content to bide its time. Whenever it was ready to be seen, Connor knew that he would be ready too.  
  
Slinging his duffle bag back over his shoulder, Connor took one last look around the beach, wishing the thing would come out and show itself. It didn't though, so he continued on back to the hotel.  
  
The trip to the Hyperion took longer than had been expected. Some of the buses on the schedule weren't running. Most of the drivers had been frightened into staying home, like the other citizens of the city that day. Figuring out which buses would run their route and where they would stop was narrowed down to only educated guesses. Eventually, he had walked fifteen blocks to the hotel, fed up with the endless guessing game.  
  
Though, it worked out in his favor since he passed a local shop that had some candles. He'd almost forgotten about picking those up. At least he'd have some light in the hotel now.  
  
By the time he reached the hotel, the sun was setting. He had wanted to patrol that night, just like old times, but after the long day all he wanted now was to get some sleep. His hand felt the gash the demon had given him on his cheek, inspecting it. It was still wet with blood, sticky to the touch. "Yep, just like old times."  
  
When he reached the front door of the hotel, Connor found it open. Remembering he had locked it he sighed, "What now?" Readying himself for more fighting, he walked inside, looking around warily. His eyes stopped when he saw who was standing in the lobby. In the early evening light that came through the windows, her wavy brown hair lit up magnificently. It matched the glint in her angry eyes. He recognized her instantly, "Faith?" He dropped his duffle bag on the floor; this day just kept getting more interesting as it wore on. At least there was no need to fight now. She was standing next to him on the stairs in an instant, still looking rather pissed off.  
  
"Who the hell are you," she punched him in the nose, not waiting for a response. It was then that Connor realized how unsteady she looked, like an emotional storm had been raised up inside her, "And where's Angel?"  
  
With one hand covering his now bleeding nose, Connor muttered under his breath, "Wonderful."  
  
..................................  
  
Feedback me, Seymour! (man, that plant from Little Shop of Horrors is creepy.) 


	9. Chapter 9

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 9  
  
By Vixen  
  
Faith didn't wait for Connor to say anything before she grabbed him around the throat with one slender hand that should not have been that strong. Slayer strength though, she had it and knew how to wield it. Speaking in a voice that was reigned in to control the emotions bottled inside her she let out, "See, here's the thing. Wolfram and Hart's gone. Angel's gone. Demons are singing 'free at last, free at last'." Her other hand wrapped into a fist, she held it up to his face just so he could see the way her well-trained muscles were ready and waiting for some action, "I wanna know what's going on. Now talk or I start pummeling."  
  
"I don't like people touching my neck, now get off!" Connor pushed Faith away, surprising her. He looked human, but he also had a large supply of unrecognized strength. She straightened and took a step back, studying him closer now, waiting for his next move. She wasn't going to take him for granted again. "I don't know where Angel is. I don't know where the others are. And I don't feel like fighting you tonight. Okay?"  
  
He walked down the stairs, past her, not even paying attention to her hard glare. Instead, Connor picked a spot on round red couch that occupied most of the lobby. Energy drained, he looked up at her with steady eyes, crossing his arms.  
  
Faith was flabbergasted; first he was strong enough to block her assault, and now he displayed nothing but a calm and cool, if not a little annoyed, exterior. And in the presence of a slayer. "Who are you?" Her tone was softer than the first time she had asked that question, and a little bewildered. There was something about him; she just couldn't put her finger on it.  
  
"Angel's son."  
  
Faith started chuckling, hoping down the stairs. She pounded one of her fists into her hand, just from the sheer giddiness that answer had brought, "Nice try, kid. Vampires can't have kids." Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms, mirroring him, "Now who are you, really? And don't play games with me, unless you want me to play games with your spine."  
  
He stood up, fed up with her presence. Even though she was incredibly hot, and had that older woman thing going on, the day had just been way too long to deal with this now, "If you don't believe me that's your problem," He went to go pick up his duffle bag again. Lifting it, he set it back down on the front desk. "Besides, from what I hear you're a walking contradiction yourself." Connor began fishing through the bag for the candles he had bought from the store. It was getting dark in the hotel since the sun had finished setting.  
  
Faith was tired of being talked to in this tone; she knew something was up with this kid. But his story just didn't make sense. It was technically impossible. The knowledge the kid had was all a bit too alarming also. Walking over to the front desk she grabbed his shoulder and wheeled him around, "How did you know I was a slayer?"  
  
"You mean, besides the amazing death grip, right?" Connor rolled his eyes at her. Then, more seriously he answered, "We've met before, you just don't remember. It's a very long and complicated story. You'd probably be bored to tears, so why don't you just go out and hit something." He regretted being snippy with her, but she hadn't listened to him the first time he told her the truth.  
  
"Fine, go ahead," She jumped up on the counter top, surprising him. With an extra edge to her voice she added, "I'm waiting. And just so you know, if it doesn't make sense I'm gonna take you up on that hitting something offer. Starting with your face."  
  
"Did anyone ever tell you you've a very violent person?" He shot her a sarcastic look as he lit some of the candles with a pocket lighter he kept in his jacket. The light bounced off the ceiling and made shadows on the walls.  
  
"What can I say?" She tossed her long wavy hair back as she replied flippantly, "It's been a crazy coupla days. Now start talking."  
  
Connor paced a few times before beginning. He knew his story probably wouldn't be understood by someone who hadn't lived it. Hell, half the time he didn't understand it either. Still, she was an expert in the supernatural; she dealt with odd things like this nightly. Besides, if she didn't like what he said, she'd get all fired up and start walking around all angrily and make that sexy pout and.. Connor shook his head; trying to push the thoughts his hormones were sending him out of his head.  
  
It was the way she looked at him as he began the tale, listening to him, trying to piece the puzzle together in that cute little head of hers that made him tell her everything. At least everything he remembered, or remembered being told. He skimmed over his stay in Quor-toth, but shared the barest facts about the other dimension with her. He told her about getting back to this dimension, fighting with Angel, some stuff about staying at the Hyperion that summer. Strangely, there was little he wouldn't tell her when he had her full attention, when her big brown eyes were focused on him.  
  
Connor remembered feeling this way the first time he had met her, but back then he'd been with Cordelia and about to become a father. There hadn't been a chance to explore his feelings back then, not that he usually did. Inwardly, he cursed, trying to stay centered on the story he was telling her. It was when he got to their first meeting that her eyebrows shot up.  
  
"I still don't remember meeting you the first time," Faith shook her head, "Why don't I remember that? Are you messing with me, kid?"  
  
He sighed. "Can you wait until I'm done talking for the question and answer segment of the night?"  
  
She frowned, losing a bit of her believability in his narrative. However, she only tilted her head to the side and said, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Keep going. But remember our deal. I don't like what you're sayin—"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you'll start pummeling me. Got it the first time." He rolled his eyes again, not caring about her threats. If it did come down to a fistfight, it would at least end in a stalemate. He wouldn't let her get the better hand. Even if she was a slayer.  
  
Connor continued telling her what he knew of his past, treading lightly on the issues he still had trouble dealing with: Jasmine, the hostage situation at the mall, fighting his father and winding up dead only to come back to life again as someone completely new and different. The bounce came back in his step a bit when he got to the part about his new life; it was really the only part of him that he enjoyed talking about. He was surprised she was able to get so much out of him about the old Connor, but there was just something about her.  
  
When Connor had gotten to the part about last night's portal opening, he finished and looked up at her again. The light emitting from the burning candles, lit up her face. It flickered and showered her with different shades of light. She looked confused, a little baffled, and yet it was clear that she believed.  
  
Neither spoke for a moment before she joked her way back into conversation, "Damn. Your origin story trumps mine." Though she would leave her own tale unspoken. "So, we've got a problem here. The portal." She crossed one leg over the other as she looked up at the ceiling, thinking of her next strategy. Normally she was a shoot now, ask questions when everybody's dead type of girl, but when it came to strategy she still had slayer skill. Even if she didn't like sitting around until someone formed a plan.  
  
"Yeah," Connor sat back down on the couch dejectedly, "I came back to the hotel because I wanted to help, but now I don't know if I can. I'll kill whatever's out there on the streets, but opening the portal is going to have to take some magick." He sighed, "Which I have no skill in. I never really liked the stuff."  
  
"But how did you open the portal in Quor-toth to get back here?"  
  
Connor smiled inwardly, she had just proved she had been listening to him, really listening. Though, when he spoke the pride went out of him, "Well, that's the thing.. I never really opened it back then. I only killed the thing that was attacking this other demon, when I saved its life it gave me one wish. Anything I wanted." His voice quieted, betraying years of tense emotions, "It was the only time I ever accepted anything from anyone in Quor-toth."  
  
Faith frowned, "So, I guess that thing is still back there granting wishes for other people that save its life. It can't help us here.. But that's okay, I have a plan." She saw Connor's eyes light up with anticipation and continued, "I know someone." Faith slid off the countertop and began walking around, walking and thinking out loud, "A friend who.. well, not exactly what I would call a friend actually. But we did save the world together once.. had to destroy a town to do it but.. she's good with the magicks and stuff." Then, relating back to Connor's story she gestured to him, "You actually know her. Willow. She's wicked with the hocus-pocus."  
  
Connor thought back and remembered the girl with the reddish hair and incredible grasp on the magical arts. She'd be perfect. Faith's idea was perfect. He smiled absently as he watched her stroll towards the front door, her leather pants caressing every curve of her long legs. The tight white tank top she wore had the same caressing effect on her chest. "Are you going patrolling?" There was a hint of hopefulness in his voice. They could make a night of it, fighting side by side. It was what he did best, and he so wanted to show off in front of her.  
  
"Yeah, but you're not." She said pointedly.  
  
"What?" He covered up his true feelings, wondering if any trace of them had been visible to her. "I can fight. I'm not like some little kid—"  
  
"No," Faith cut him off, "You just look beat, like you're about to pass out and fall asleep right there. I just don't need anything happening to the only other person in this city who gives a damn 'bout protecting it." She started for the door, and turned back towards him, "Besides, I'm in a very solid relationship with a principal back in New York City right now. Sorry, kid."  
  
"But—I wasn't—"he stuttered. It had never been that hard lying before, but she had that extra special specialness. He really wanted to kick himself right then.  
  
"Sure you weren't." Faith laughed, "Get some rest, kid. I'll be back in the morning."  
  
The door swung shut behind her, leaving Connor feeling completely stupid. He hadn't even wanted to feel that way about her, he had only recently broken up with Stacy. But that had been a high school romance, and those never last. This was different though. Faith knew who he was now, or at least his background. It would have been like Stacy, where he would have to hide his true nature all the time. He sighed; he really was like his father, falling for the first slayer that crossed his path. He had only made his job harder; working with Faith now would be embarrassing to say the least.  
  
Grabbing his bag, he walked up the stairs, determined to get some sleep. It would all be different in the morning. Not better, just different.  
  
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I just want to thank everyone who had reviewed this story so far. Keep them coming, I love hearing from everyone. 


	10. Chapter 10

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 10  
  
By Vixen  
  
That night, after Angel successfully killed the ten-foot demon-y thing, the tribe and the newcomers from Los Angeles feasted together. In the one largest room in the cave, a mess hall that served as a fancy dinning area when the occasion permitted, the party went on through the night, everyone just happy to be alive. Raucous laughter and endless dancing filled the room, as the people of the tribe plied their guests with enough food, wine, and blood to keep them well satisfied.  
  
Spike, for his part, had gotten pissed drunk. If the locals were going to treat him like a celebrity, he was only too eager to relish all the attention. A gaggle of ladies from the tribe had gathered around him, all wearing fancy leathery dresses. If animal skins could be considered a fashion, these girls were high class. One of them bounced playfully on his knee as Spike retold his tale of beating the demon for the hundredth time that night, making sure to paint himself as the top dog and the one who had come up with the plan to kill the thing in the first place.  
  
Angel watched as the people mingled about, recalling parties at the taverns he used to frequent in his human days. He thanked the people for their hospitality, but his goal remained talking to the elders. They still had yet to speak with any one of them, and Angel's patience was wearing thin. There was work to attend to; there wasn't time to enjoy the festivities. Not that he would if there was time enough. He wasn't a festivities sort of guy. Instead, he kept to the corners of the room, lurking in the shadows and watching.  
  
Every once in a while a warrior in animal skins would come to talk with him, asking him all sorts of details about his fighting experience, how he had fought the demon, and how he had won. Unlike Spike, he didn't like to get into the details, and he wouldn't play the hero. He'd done that before, and people had wound up dead. There were no heroes anymore, just people who did what they could, even though that was rarely enough. Angel just thanked each person who came to talk with him, and politely refused to get into details mumbling something about how it all came down to luck.  
  
A little while later, Gunn arrived at the party with a much-healthier looking Fiyara. Making their way through the noisy din of the other partygoers, they came over to talk to Angel. Fiyara laughed as a dancer almost careened into her. Her people would be safe tonight; she wouldn't have to worry about the continual death that seemed to attach itself to that world. With Gunn following on her heel, Fiyara weaved through the party, working her way towards her target.  
  
"Hey man, great party," Gunn beamed as he approached Angel. He was looking better, and soon might just be strong enough to rejoin the others in the coming battles, "Just what we deserve after everything, right?"  
  
"Yeah.. right," Angel said, a little out of it. The sight of Gunn's worried frown brought his attention back. Shrugging off the unspoken concern he said, "It's just been a long day."  
  
Fiyara nodded, "For all of us." Her demeanor towards them had changed drastically since they had helped kill the demon. Once cold and reserved, she had warmed up to them. Though, she still kept her distance in the way she stood. A quiet moment passed between them all before she spoke again, jumping in with the thing she had been waiting to tell him, "I have some news, if you feel like talking. Not here though. Get your friends and meet me outside in the hallway." She pointed towards the door Gunn and her had come through, "I'll be waiting." When she received a confused look from Angel, she smiled, "Don't worry, it's a good thing. I hope."  
  
Angel and Gunn were left behind, not knowing which goal would be hardest: breaking Spike away from his new fans or even finding Illyria. She had disappeared once the party began, wandering off with some of the locals. She had seemed both detested by them and yet pleased with their admiration of her skills. By now she had probably started her own cult, just like in the days of muck and primordial ooze.  
  
Simultaneously trying not to bump into any of the frenzied multitudes of dancers and carousers while avoiding those who wanted to talk to them until the sun came back up was a little tough as Gunn and Angel traveled over towards Spike. Gunn, who had missed most of the party, was highly amused though. He'd never received this much attention before. He was the man of the hour, and secretly enjoyed it even though outwardly he was all about what needed to be done. Finding Spike. And breaking up his little gathering.  
  
As they neared the table were Spike was sitting, Gunn could hear his slightly inebriated voice carrying over the other noise, ".. I wouldn't call myself a hero, not really.. aw, who am I fooling, I would. A thousand times I would."  
  
A loud giggly laughter followed from the girls who were practically falling on top of Spike to get his attention. Gunn shook his head, somehow even though he was usually a bit arrogant, Spike always managed to get the girls. How the hell did he do that?  
  
"Spike," Angel said roughly, moving through the gaggle of girls, "We have to talk."  
  
"Come on, Mate. Little busy here," Spike ignored the other vampire and leaned closer to the girls, about to start another part of his story.  
  
Angel grabbed the cuff of his leather jacket and hauled Spike to his feet, "Now!"  
  
"All right, all right," Spike pulled away jerkily. Brushing himself off, he turned towards the ladies, "Captain Forehead here has to talk to me. Wants to congratulate me on a job well done, most likely. It's been swell talking to you lot," He nodded towards one of them, "'Specially you." He laughed, amused at his own game. "But now there's work to be done. Evil is still out there and I—"  
  
Angel grabbed his collar again, yanking Spike away from the table before he could finish his spiel. The girls watched as they departed, waving after their blond hero and icon. Angel didn't let go of Spike, despite the other vampire's angry protests, until they got a few feet away from the admiring fans.  
  
Gunn had followed them to the other side of the room, when he spotted Illyria. He hit Angel's arm lightly to get his attention, and pointed towards a corner of the room, "Yo, do you see what I'm seeing, or is that—"  
  
"Bloody hell!" Spike stopped arguing with Angel when he saw what Gunn had pointed out. His mouth hung open for a second before he began laughing hysterically, the wine he had consumed leaving him in a fit of laughter. "Blue bird's a lush!"  
  
Angel just stood there, looking utterly confused. It was the last place he expected to find Illyria, but there she was before his eyes, lying on one of the tables. She was surrounded by a bunch of intoxicated warriors, though they looked like little more than frat boys, holding what appeared to be a crude funnel device, much like one would find at a college party. Illyria was holding the end of the funnel, sucking up the wine as they poured it in.  
  
"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"  
  
When she was finally finished with her drink, she let the end of the funnel drop from her mouth. It dripped a couple of drops of liquid onto her red and black catsuit, but she seemed to happy to notice as she held up her arms in a little victory. The gang of warriors surrounding her cheered, and she shouted over them, slurring her words, "I am a golden god!" More cheers emitted from the crowd as her head fell back down on the table and another person picked up the end of the funnel and began drinking.  
  
"Girl knows how to party," Gunn said finally, breaking the silent confused that had settled over the trio.  
  
Angel shook his head, still not sure if he was really seeing what he thought he was. After a moment he recovered from the shock and went to retrieve the girl. Upon reaching her, she laughed and kissed him suddenly. Grabbing him in the lip-lock with unyielding force, Angel couldn't break away until she let him go and fell back down on the table. He blinked away the overwhelming surprise and said nothing; there were no words that could even fit the situation.  
  
The vampire could hear Spike laughing even harder back where Angel had left him. Pushing past the startled daze he found himself in, Angel grabbed one of the girl's arms and said, "Outside. Now."  
  
Illyria let herself be dragged away from the party, bumping into a few people as Angel maneuvered her out into the hallway. Spike and Gunn followed behind them, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
Out in the hallway, Fiyara had been waiting for them. She looked up as they came nearer. "I see you are all here. Now we can get down to the matter at hand," She began, very formally, "The elders have instructed me to make a deal with you."  
  
"What kind of deal?" Angel asked warily, as he held Illyria upright. The girl weighed more than would appear possible, supernaturally heavy.. probably so that the old one would have a better chance at fighting off enemies. Just keeping Illyria from sliding down to the ground was enough work for the vampire.  
  
"Our tribe has been beaten down time and again by demons that would like to see us cut down. It's been nearly impossible to survive in the face of the endless destruction that they wreak upon our people and our land. We need the help of those who know how to fight." Fiyara began her explanation, "We need people like you. We've heard stories of your coming, tales have been passed down from one generation to the next, stories about the men who will be equal parts demon and man. They said they would come from the sky and drink blood, but have the spark that would set them apart from the others of their race."  
  
"By spark, you mean.." Spike asked; his voice colored by a tint of arrogance again.  
  
"Souls." Fiyara filled in, and it became all too clear that they had fallen into another prophecy unexpectedly. Fate's a funny thing. Fiyara saw their group expression, the suddenly clarity and knew she was on the right track, "You have them don't you? Souls? Otherwise you wouldn't have done what you did. We weren't sure of it when you were brought in, but you've displayed enough empathy for the human race to earn some trust. Not to mention you already have human partner," she nodded towards Gunn. "In the short while you've been with us you've made us believe again, that we could keep the darkness back and that we might even beat it one day. No one should have survived that last battle, and yet we did because of your help. We'd like to welcome you to join our tribe, if you'd fight for us and train us to become better equipped at combating our foes."  
  
"We can't," Angel replied, taking all the steam out of her. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Wait a minute, Angel," Gunn cut in, "Helping the helpless, I thought that was our thing."  
  
It had been, before Wolfram and Hart. Angel had seen those who believed in him, those who thought he was a hero before, people who had followed him. And most of them were already dead. Still, he couldn't just turn away those in need of help. "Fine. We'll try it. For a little while."  
  
"And not only because you people throw the best parties," Spike added with a smirk.  
  
"Great," Fiyara smiled, "I'll tell the elders. One more thing though, they have decided that from now on I am to be your liaison. Anything you want to tell them or ask them will go through me since it's against our code for outsiders to meet with them." She walked away without waiting for a response.  
  
Deep in the pit of Gunn's stomach he had felt uneasy when she mentioned the word liaison. Hopefully, she would not end up betraying them like Eve or Hamilton. From the look on Angel's face, he was feeling the same way.  
  
Illyria was slowly sobering up. Slumped in Angel's arms she picked her head up slightly, "I have imbibed the liquid of the low ones, I feel sick."  
  
Angel looked down at the girl as she yakked all over his shoes, "Well, that's just perfect."  
  
.....................................  
  
Comments? Questions? 


	11. Chapter 11

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 11  
  
By Vixen  
  
Bad dreams had woken Connor again that night. Dreams of a past he was not ready to deal with just yet. It was getting to be a habit. Go to sleep only to wake up in the middle of the night. Tonight's nightmare had been less linear that usual: a forever night, dust and ash, and blood. Tons of blood. Fountains of it. The eeriest part of it all was that in the dream the destruction had pleased him. He had found sanctuary in it, it was demon blood after all, and they were made to bleed. Only when he woke up did he feel disgusted with the images that had plagued his mind. His body craved more sleep now, but he couldn't face that again and after lying in bed for a while he decided to get up.  
  
It was still hours till dawn, but he could find something to occupy his time. Dressing quietly, he went through the motions of readying himself for the never-ending war that raged out on the streets. Vampires, demons, other weird things that went bump in the night, he would kill them all. In his foggy haze, he barely realized what he was doing. It was like he was in between worlds, the rage driving him and nothing else. It was easy to fall into this state of mind after a night lacking sleep. The thoughts clouded, the memories mixed, and he was both the old and the new and yet neither.  
  
Grabbing a stake Faith had left behind with her other things, he took to the streets. He hunted that night; dragged out every demon he could find and did his best impression of the Destroyer he used to be. It was the anger that drove him, over what the Senior Partners had done, over what he was unable to do, over the fact that he had been rebuffed by Faith. He remembered this; the fiery feeling that tensed each muscle and the release when he had succeeded at destroying each of his targets.  
  
He had just killed another; he wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm and stared down at it. It didn't belong in this world, it wasn't right. It was dead now, but somehow that didn't stop him. Connor assaulted its corpse, punching it in its face again and again until his hands bled. "What are you.. you don't belong here.. this world is too good for you.. you don't belong here... you don't.."  
  
Connor stopped when he had become exhausted, and looked at what he had done. Under the weight of his own blows, the thing's face had become a muddied puddle of bones and tendons, broken and bare. Lifeless. He blinked, most of the night was a blur, he could barely remember how he had gotten to that street or whether or not the demon had been a good one or not. Connor noticed then that he was crying, and wiped the tears away forcefully.  
  
His heart raced, and his breath came in shallow gasps. Standing up, he took a stumbled step away from the corpse, pushing his hair out of his eyes with his hand. The stake, the only weapon he had with him, dropped to the ground with a heavy echo. It was evil, or it might have been evil, but he still couldn't get past what he had felt. The Destroyer had come out to play, teetering on the edge, and it had been fun for a while. Not fun actually, he thought, just a release of pressure that had been building over the past month, and especially those last few days.  
  
"Good boy. You got it," A voice whispered on the wind, catching Connor's attention. He knew that voice, but it couldn't be him. Holtz was dead. Long dead.  
  
Connor looked around anxiously, he listened to the city noise, waiting to catch another sound from the man he knew was dead and praying that he wouldn't. No more voices came, only the common far away city noises of the night. He could feel it again though, the presence from the beach. It was hunting him, but still too far out of reach to be found. It was lurking in the shadows, painstakingly hidden from view. It would only strike when the moment was right, when it's whole plan had come together. Connor shivered in the cold night air, wondering why he hadn't brought a jacket. He down the street, deep in thought and barely noticed when he heard another voice.  
  
"Hey, kid. That you?" It was Faith. She seemed confused to find him wandering around in the middle of the night. Coming up behind him, she fell in step with him, "What are you doing out here? I thought you were back at the hotel catching some Zs."  
  
"I couldn't sleep," He answered coldly, the hurt from her rejection earlier still not completely healed. "Why do you care, anyway?"  
  
"No reason, geez," Faith gestured wildly, "Just curious. Excuse me for trying to have a conversation with you." She shook her head, then looking at him curiously she noted, "You look a little wired. See a ghost or something?"  
  
"Or something."  
  
"Right, well, I was gonna go hit one last street. All the action seems to be coming from this one tiny spot over on 53rd and 4th street. All the vamps I met tonight were talking of some big shindig that's going on over there. You wanna come?" They both knew that in her own special way, Faith was apologizing. She didn't like doing it, she was never the heart-to-heart kind of girl, but she still felt bad about the hurting the kid's feelings. Now he was wandering around in the middle of the night looking like someone who just saw their cat get run over. The least she could do was show him some sort of action. He looked like he could handle himself well, and kicking ass had always been comfort food where Faith was concerned.  
  
Connor mumbled something along the lines of yes, and they began the long walk over to the area Faith had been picking up clues from. It was thirty blocks away, but they managed to make it there within fifteen minutes. The prickly hairs on the back of Faith's neck stood up when they got a ten blocks away from the spot. Whatever it was, the power it was emanating was huge. It pulsated, making the street below Faith feel like it was moving slightly underneath her feet, little mini earthquakes that could only be felt by those of a supernatural origin. A look from Connor told Faith that he felt it too.  
  
Black clouds could be seen circling the sky by the time they reached a five- block radius from where the energy was coming from. It was almost dawn, yet there were no signs that this area of the city was waking up. There weren't even signs that this neighborhood was occupied at all. It felt dead, completely devoid of life. Like everyone had just decided to get up and move at the same time. As the morning wore on it became apparent that the sky was darker than it should have been at that time.  
  
The black clouds stood out more, and from them stemmed a chilling dreariness. Each step they took, it was harder to keep going forward, fear wafted through the empty streets. Though they had each fought their share of badness, even they were not immune to the power of the spell that seemed to tell them to run.  
  
"For the amount of vamps that kept hollering about this place," Faith said, taking a look around her surroundings. "It seems pretty dead."  
  
"Can you blame them? Something is seriously not right with this place."  
  
"Hey, kid, what do ya suppose that is?" Faith asked as she pointed to what looked like an upside down waterfall. It was where all the black clouds were coming from. The fountain of bad came directly out of the ground, spurting what appeared to be black liquid up from its geyser. The more they looked at it, the worse its image became to their minds.  
  
"I don't know, but whatever it is I don't like it." Connor was beginning to feel rather sick, dizzyingly sick. He took a step away from the geyser and received a worried look from Faith. Pushing down the queasiness, he told her, "I don't think we can kill this thing, if it's even alive. We should leave and come back with more information."  
  
Faith shot the black geyser of unfun death a look, her eyes moving upward towards the clouds that loomed over them. Smog from the clouds was hovering in the air, falling downward towards the two of them. It was Los Angeles, a city filled with smog, but this topped the chart. Whatever wave of sickness had just hit Connor, she was beginning to feel too. It was an icky feeling, like a weight sitting on top of her chest, crushing her under its power. "Fine, we'll come back later."  
  
The slayer didn't like leaving the scene without getting into her action packed routine, but she didn't know what this thing was or how to fight it. The best way to fight it would be to go the whole gathering information routine, even though she hated that plan.  
  
After moving out of the area, they had both begun to feel better. However, emotionally Connor was still a wreck from what had happened earlier that night. Faith was content not to pry though, she hated people barging in on her own life and had learned it was best not to get too involved in other people's affairs.  
  
Halfway back to the hotel, they had decided to stop at a McDonald's to get some breakfast. The store was actually open and doing some decent business, most of the people in the city having forgotten about their messages their intuitive sixth sense had been sending them. There were a few people inside the eatery reading the morning newspaper; Connor caught sight of one of the headlines: Wolfram and Hart Building Crumbles Under Pressure.  
  
"Great, more bad news," Connor mumbled to no one in particular. Now his parents, who watched the news habitually each night, would be calling to check up on him. His cover story was all but blown now. Faith didn't seem to notice his distress as she ordered some pancakes and eggs. She began flirting up the guy at the counter in an attempt to get her meal for free while Connor aimlessly watched the people on the other line.  
  
There was a lean man with short black hair wearing a white dress shirt that was arguing with his daughter over whether or not she was too old to get a Happy Meal. She was about nine years old and wore her hair up in a pony tied with a pink ribbon. "Will you shut up already," The man gruffly asked his daughter, "You're not getting one."  
  
Connor had seen them before, and all too suddenly the memory of where and when came flooding back to him. Connor remembered the exact conversation, flashing back to it for an instant. You're not holding her right. You're not holding her right. The words rambled through his brain, as he recalled feeling the man's arm break under his fist back in the mall. It had been a year ago, but the guilt was just as fresh.  
  
When the man shot him a questioning look, but then returned to arguing with his daughter, not remembering anything from the mall. To him it had just been another ordinary trip to the mall with his daughter, for Connor it had been the defining moment of both his lives. Connor stepped out of the line to the counter, "Oh, God."  
  
Without giving an explanation to Faith, Connor quickly headed for the door of the fast food restaurant and began running back to the hotel; but he knew the Hyperion wasn't really a safe haven and no matter how far or how fast he ran he'd never be able to overcome the past.  
  
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Hello, my name is Vixen, and I am a feedback whore. 


	12. Chapter 12

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 12  
  
By Vixen  
  
Months passed while the four heroes got used to the new dimension, how much time had passed in the other world, their world, was uncertain. It wasn't something any of them really liked to think about. For the time being, they were a part of the tribe. They moved with them, becoming accustomed to the nomadic lifestyle. They trained with them, teaching the warriors of the tribe the basics of demon fighting.  
  
Each day was a struggle though. Learning the ways of their new home, accepting the traditions that seemed haphazard and lacked meaning for those from Los Angeles, and fighting off the daily threats by whatever demon or creature came their way. Though the hardest part was learning to let go. To accept that there might not be a way out of their new world, and that no one was going to rescue them and haul their collective asses out of the barren desert wasteland.  
  
From time to time Gunn found himself thinking back to those who were no longer with them. Thoughts would drift in unwillingly, and though he tried to live one day at a time, there was something about the people in the past that kept gnawing at his heart.  
  
Wesley.  
  
Fred.  
  
If Wesley had been there with them, they would have been able to get home. No doubt about it. He'd gotten them in and out of Pylea before; he was good with the magical mumbo-jumbo. He always knew the right incantation; the right words to say to get them back home in one piece. There was no one like that here, Gunn admitted. They needed an expert in the magical arts, but between the four lost souls, neither of them knew a damn thing about portals. They were just big swirly things that caused more problems than they fixed to Gunn. He'd given up hope of finding the way back a month or two ago. This was it, unless some great miracle occurred and saved them all, but Gunn doubted that would happen. If Wesley had been there though.. but he refused to think about that too much.  
  
Then there was Fred. She had lived five years in Pylea. Five years where she was considered a work slave, a cow, and nothing more. She had survived it all, and in the end made it back home. Her experience made her stronger, a fighter till the end when Illyria had taken over her body. Gunn didn't know how much more of the new dimension he could take. It wasn't as bad as Pylea, far from it once he got used to the daily grind, but still he miss LA, his home, the streets, playing some ball, listening to music, Lakers basketball games on tv, hot dogs, his pick up truck, a million other things could be added to that list if he allowed himself to think about it for long.  
  
Today had been a somewhat relaxing day however. The four newcomers usually took turns training anyone in the tribe who chose to learn the art of self- defense, today it was Spike's turn. Gunn, on the other hand, had taken the day off and joined a couple of the local kids. In return for his previous lessons, the three teenagers had decided to teach Gunn a sport; the only one they knew how to play. It had been taught as a training exercise to the younger generations, something to help them build muscles and hand-eye coordination. Today, they taught it to Gunn for the sole reason that the man seemed to miss the games back in his own dimension.  
  
"All right, let's see how this goes," Gunn said as a boy with reddish hair from the other team tossed him a primitive looking ball. It was nothing more than a couple of tanned skins stitched together and packed with corn kernels. There was a hoop carved into a ledge above their heads that hung vertically between the two teams. "So, how many points is it if I make it through the hoop."  
  
"One point if you get it through the hoop, none if the other team catches it," A tall girl with black hair, the other player on Gunn's team, told him. The game was something between tennis and basketball, and as the day wore on Gunn seemed to get the hang of it. The more he played it, the more it felt like home, and it eased the homesickness at least a little. It was as close as he could get to playing hoops at home for the time being, and for that Gunn was grateful.  
  
.  
  
Around the corner from the sports area of the valley, past the mouth of the main entrance to the system of cave dwellings the tribe had set up, Spike and Illyria had gotten to work helping the locals train in hand-to-hand combat. Thirty or so warriors, both men and women, performed karate katas simultaneously.  
  
For Spike, it took him back to the days in Sunnydale when Buffy had set up the little fighting club for the potentials, which only brought back feelings he didn't need. Not now. He refused to think about Buffy after they had arrived through the portal, when there was no chance of returning. Of course, he had also refused to think about Buffy after he was revived in Los Angeles after apparently dying the death of a hero when the hellmouth collapsed. His insistence that he forget her didn't seem to work either time.  
  
However, it wasn't so bad in his new home. He got to walk in the sun everyday. At Wolfram and Hart they had that special glass, which had been good enough back then. It had actually been amazing back then, peering through the windows at the world he had left behind one hundred and twenty- three years before, when he had been sired and adopted the lifestyle of the dead and soulless. Still, seeing the world in sunlight when he couldn't walk in it had been annoying so say the least. Seeing everyone on the city streets happily traveling around in the sun while he had to stay locked behind doors until nightfall had been enough for him to try to leave the place when he first arrived as a ghost. If only he hadn't felt the deep connection to Wolfram and Hart and the need to do something useful with his undead ghostliness.  
  
All those turn of events had led Spike here, to this land where he could walkabout under the warmth of the sun, freckling and tanning. Who knew vampires could tan if they got out into the sun! Spike's total paleness had turned a light tan color, which only darkened as the days went on. He was highly amused at it all.  
  
Illyria also amused him. They fought, they bickered, they kicked the shit out of each other. It was good times all around. Today, he watched as each person in the practicing group tried out their skills on Little Blue. She was under strict orders not to permanently injure them, but she did have fun putting them through their paces. Spike could tell that holding back her strength was a task Illyria was not familiar with because every now and then she would send one of her opponents careening towards a wall of the cave. She let a small smile form on her lips after flipping one of them with a back kick. Then she simply turned to the next one in line, calling them forth with a steady, "Next."  
  
Spike walked between the rows of trainees, stopping to tell one of them "Bloody hell, where'd you learn to throw a punch like that." He corrected the warrior's form, and moved on to the next row. Every so often he would turn back towards Illyria, watching her best anyone who seemed too cocky. However, by now most of them had learned not to put anything past her. She might not have all of her powers after Wesley had to suck some out of her so that her human form wouldn't explode, but she was still a goddess. She still had the ego and the kick ass moves. Although, Spike would mentally smack himself whenever he caught himself looking at her.  
  
When a large enough number of the fighters had been knocked out, or other wise beaten by her skills, he clapped his hands and turned to the group, "Think that's enough for today. Go nurse your bruises, be back here tomorrow morning." There was a collective groan as his students hobbled off the field. Spike could feel Illyria's presence as she moved behind him, starring at him with eyes the color of the endless sky. She could have built a cult for herself here, but had relented in helping them, helping him. It was beginning to unnerve Spike, "You just going to stand there or do you want something, Blue?"  
  
"You've changed. You are not what you were when you began the journey."  
  
He scoffed, "Tell me something I don't know."  
  
"You like it," came her clear reply.  
  
He stood to face her, fishing through his coat pocket for some cigarettes before realizing he had smoked his last one two weeks ago. It had become a habit since then, checking just to see if he could get the nicotine fix he still craved. "Maybe I do. What's it to you?"  
  
"I care nothing of your affairs. I only await the rematch you spoke of," Her eyes bore into his as an unspoken understanding was reached between them. There would come a time when they would have a go at each other, when they would fight evenhandedly, when they would find out what the other was made of. That time was coming shortly. Spike stood silent as Illyria turned and walked away.  
  
.  
  
"You miss your home," Fiyara said as she walked with Angel through the valley. She didn't spend much time with him, but the homesickness was apparent in all of them, him especially. People milled around them, going about their daily lives, Angel however stood out among them all. He had a darker look to his eye, a heavy weight held in his shoulders. Guilt. Remorse. Something he still hoped to change. Something he would never be able to.  
  
"It's not that I don't appreciate your hospitality. Because I do. We do," Angel said, sounding repentant. "But this isn't our place. I've tried to make the best of it, but we don't belong here. I'm sorry."  
  
"I understand," she nodded and fell quiet once more.  
  
They passed by a young boy whom Angel had never noticed before. He was so little, only about eight years old. Wearing animal skins, he played in the dirt, drawing pictures in the sandy desert floor. It was his only source of entertainment as the people jostled by, going about their work to ensure the safety of the tribe.  
  
Immediately, Angel thought of Connor, and then chided himself for the thought. It had been painful enough thinking about his son and the things Connor never had growing up when he was in his own world. Now here, seeing the difference between a life in a parallel world and the one Angel wished he could have given Connor. This wasn't a hell dimension, but it wasn't the place for a child either.  
  
Fiyara saw the look on Angel's face and nodded towards the child, "His name is Terrin. He hasn't spoke since he saw his father die in battle."  
  
Angel excused himself and slowly moved over towards the kid. Sitting down on a rock next to the child, he just watched Terrin. He had floppy brown hair and a slightly disheveled appearance, he looked almost like what Angel imaged Connor did at his age. The boy didn't seem to notice him for a second, and when he did said nothing. He only looked up with weary eyes that contained a sadness no child should ever know.  
  
Angel ventured a soft greeting, "Hello."  
  
The corners of Terrin's mouth lifted up slightly, for only a brief second, and he went back to silently making lines in the sand.  
  
......................................................  
  
Just wanted to let all you readers know that I'm going on vacation for a week. I will try to update this story at least three times while on vacation. That is, if the resort really does have wireless Internet access. One of the employees said it did, one of them said it didn't. I'm not sure. Let's all cross our fingers and pray to Joss that everything works out. 


	13. Chapter 13

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 13  
  
By Vixen  
  
Since Faith had come to stay at the Hyperion a week had passed. Nothing much had changed in the city, there was still an ever-present danger and the big black clouds that neither one of them could fight. They needed a witch. Willow was supposed to be arriving that day, and surprisingly Faith was looking forward to her appearance. They barely got along, and when they did it was only for supernatural type work. Still, it would beat hanging around the hotel and feeling alone.  
  
Connor and her rarely spoke anymore. Not since he had wigged at the fast food joint. Faith couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. Half the time he walked around like he was in a daze, and the other he told her he was 'fine' in a voice that stated clearly that he wasn't. If there was any proof Faith needed to convince her that Connor really was Angel's kid it was the way he'd been brooding around the hotel that past week.   
  
The incessant knocking at the door brought her downstairs. Towel drying her hair, Faith looked around the lobby, exasperated. Connor was asleep on the couch, dead to the world, and contentedly ignoring the knocking. He had been sleeping at weird hours of the day lately, and Faith knew he wasn't sleeping through the nights. Nocturnal, just like his old man, Faith dashed away her annoyance. The kid needed sleep if he was going to make it through whatever was coming.  
  
Wrapping the black terry cloth robe a little tighter around her slender waist, Faith reached out to grasp the doorknob and opened the door. A redheaded Wiccan greeted her with a small smile, and Faith couldn't help but feel a little relieved. The cavalry had finally arrived, someone to figure out all the magick stuff. Now the slayer could finally get down to business and start kicking things like she was made to do. Projecting a calm exterior, Faith ventured, "Willow, hey, what's new with you?"  
  
"Nothing much," Willow answered conversationally, "I got your message. Sorry I missed your call when you phoned me, but there was this whole big Wicca retreat in the Amazon that I was on. Lots of witches doing spells, and working magick. It was fun. And I'm completely babbling now, aren't I?"  
  
"Hey, just happy to have a witch on our team again," Faith commented, remaining friendly and cordial though the relationship was a little strained. Holding open the door, she gestured towards the darkened hotel, as if to welcome Willow to the Hyperion, their base of operations.  
  
"Well, I'll do what I can to help beat the same old apocalypse scares." Willow walked into the lobby, put her suitcase down, and looking around the place. It was still dusty, neither Faith nor Connor bothering to straighten it up. It was dark too, the only light coming from the few windows that weren't blocked by heavy curtains. The witch shook her head; glancing around the place she would be living at during the next few days, or weeks. Waving a hand through the air, she chanted a simple charm, "Illustro."   
  
One by one, the lamps in the room crackled and lit up, brightening the room considerably. Faith watched in amusement, "That sure beats paying the electric bill."  
  
"It's only until we get past our portal problems," Willow said with wisdom of the magick she had only begun to possess the last year in Sunnydale. "Emergency lighting so to speak. Not a way to get around, you know, paying."  
  
Following one of the larger crackling noises from the large light fixture on the ceiling, Connor started to stir from his sleep. As he awoke, he watched as the light poured into the lobby. He glanced around until he saw the cause of the new illumination. The white highlights in Willow's hair faded away as the spell completed it's task, returning her mane to the dark penny red it had been when they had first met during the re-souling of Angel. It was longer now though, and she looked a little older and even more powerful. The newcomer, this witch, the one he knew from before, was grinning at him, "Connor, hi."  
  
"You know who I am?" Connor shook away the sleepiness that still clung to him. At first he figured Faith had told Willow about him but there had been a familiar tone to her voice. Like she really did know him, and hadn't only been told by a second party. His eyes narrowed in confusion, "How do you know who I am?"  
  
"Why wouldn't I-" Willow started, and then paused looking far away as if sorting out some new information. With an enlightened nod she continued as understanding seeped in, "Oh, the spell. I'm starting to become immune to that sort of glamour. I think it comes from being so attuned to the Goddess. Wolfram and Hart doesn't possess a high enough level of magic to.." Willow realized she was babbling again and shook her head. Sitting down on the couch next to Connor, she glanced at both of them, "But enough about me, how are you guys?"  
  
There was a collective groan from the two who had been battling the new demons in Los Angeles the longest. Then Faith spoke, "This city is really going under. Seems the big nasties can't get enough of the place, they're coming here in droves. And they seem to be feeding off of some power, because even the weaker species seem to be kicking our butts now."   
  
"It's the vortex," Willow explained, "I first picked up on the feelings when I was on my Amazon retreat, and then when I got off the plane the energy was overwhelming."  
  
"What's a vortex," Connor asked warily. Magick unnerved him, it always had, and the amount of power he knew Willow contained when she spoke of such things creeped him out even more.  
  
"A spiral motion of fluid within a limited area, especially a whirling mass of water or air that sucks everything near it toward its center. That's the dictionary's definition anyway. Basically, it's a whirlpool that draws in all the evil from surrounding areas. Once it's built up in an area, people usually leave or if they don't get out of the way, they die. It causes sickness and general 'someone's walking on my grave' feelings." Willow watched as her words sunk in, "It's probably what Wolfram and Hart used to call the demons to this city when they attacked Angel."  
  
"Think we figured out what those black clouds were, huh, kid," Faith looked over at Connor, who wore a determined expression.   
  
"How do we stop it," He asked the witch as he watched her carefully with a steady gaze. His mind was already focused on the task at hand, even the fact that Faith was standing around in just a towel could do little to pull his attention away for very long. If there was something brewing, he wanted to know the best way to fix it. Nothing else mattered.  
  
"I'm not sure exactly, I've never closed a vortex before," Willow said in a slight apologetic manner, "Once we do some research though, I'm sure everything will fall into place. Before they went off on their Black Thorn mission, Wesley sent me an email." She unzipped the front flap of her suitcase and pulled out a piece of paper with a few lines printed on it. "It's an address, where Wesley hid their books. Just in case anything happened to them, he wanted to entrust his old volumes to someone who would know how to handle them. He also gave me a page number to look up in one of the books, I think he knew what the Senior Partners were planning."  
  
At the mention of the Senior Partners, Connor grew moodier. Crossing his arms, he sulked silently on the couch. As Faith and Willow went on with their conversation, he only paid the minimum of attention to what they were talking about. His minds traveled to thoughts of revenge on Wolfram and Hart. They were still around; Angel's whole kamikaze mission hadn't solved anything. The company was built on evil, and that would last until the last day of judgment. There was little Connor could do against the evil law firm. There were factions of the company dispersed in almost every city in the world, he was outnumber and outmatched. It didn't make the quiet rage that had been building up subside however.  
  
It was Faith's voice that broke him from his anger, "What about the portal?"  
  
Connor straightened on the couch, waiting for Willow to tell him some good news for a change. Though, what Willow said next was not the change of luck he wanted, "It's going to take a lot of power to reopen the portal. Just finding the right spell could take months, but I think with some searching in the books we might be able to find a way but it could take a couple of months."  
  
A silence fell over the room as Willow's words sunk in. There wasn't going to be a quick fix to their problems.  
  
"That's too long," Connor shook his head and then stood up, continuing with his outburst, "We can't wait 'a couple of months'. It's not just their lives on the lines; it's everyone's. The things that are going on in this city, they're only the beginning. We're not strong enough to stop this.. we can't--"   
  
"Connor," Willow started in a calm tone, "We're all going to try our best to-"  
  
He halted his tirade, picking a focal point on the floor and letting the guilt wash over him. "Our best isn't good enough."  
  
With a tenderness that was still new to Faith, she came towards him, placed one arm around his shoulder and suggested her plan. "Look, everyone's in need of some down time. Why don't we all just relax, hit the books like Willow suggested and then-"  
  
Connor only glared at Faith and twisted away from her touch. There was work to be done, she as a slayer should know this. They couldn't sit around hoping the answers would come from a book, "You can do what you want." He grabbed his coat where it hung behind the door, "I'm going hunting."  
  
He could feel Willow calling to him as he walked out of the hotel, the twilight beginning to darken the streets. When he was far enough down the road, he stopped his ill-tempered march down the empty street. There had been more Connor wanted to say to the two of them, worse things that he felt ashamed even thinking.   
  
Even though he had reigned in his anger, it still troubled him. Where was the peace that he had felt before coming back to the city, Connor wondered. It had all been so simple before returning to this action-packed lifestyle. Besides, the two girls were only trying to help. It wasn't their fault Wolfram and Hart had opened a portal to god knows where.   
  
Connor's cell phone rang in his coat pocket, and he flipped it on. His mother's voice greeted him. It was the best comfort in the world at that moment. Just to be able to talk to someone from his normal average life, the one he wished was real, meant a lot.  
  
She was worried about him; the news about Wolfram and Hart's collapse had finally reached her ears. It wasn't the conversation Connor wanted to have at the moment, but it was one of the only people he felt like talking to. He tracked through the streets, keeping an eye out for signs of things of a dubious nature, and simultaneous continued the conversation from home.   
  
It was a hard task to reassure her that he was okay; building lies upon lies for her to believe, but he succeeded. When Connor hung up the phone, his mother's worried tone had ceased. She truly believed him when he said he was fine. If only Connor could believe his own lies too.   
  
.......................................  
  
Sorry this update took so long, but the resort did NOT have Internet access like it promised in the brochure. They lied to me. I feel cheap and used. Bad, bad Point Sebago! I smite you. 


	14. Chapter 14

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 14  
  
By Vixen  
  
Willow entered the Hyperion carrying a stack of old tomes and leather bound manuscript, Wesley's whole collection of old books that had been hidden away awaiting the moment when they aid the remaining champions in their work. She could barely see over the top of the stack, and her arms were tired from carrying them all the way from the public storage warehouse. At least they had all been there, and after a long talk with the manager Willow had convinced him to have access to what had been stored with their company.  
  
As she walked down the stairs to the main level of the lobby, the book on the top of the pile started wobbling. She steadied herself, balancing the books more carefully so that they wouldn't fall, but it was too late. After the first one came tumbling down, the others slipped from their carefully ordered column, spilling all over the floor. Willow mumbled a mild curse, bending over to pick them up.  
  
Pleasant surprise seized her when Faith came up behind her, helping to pick up the various volumes that were scattered around the floor. It was still weird to be on the same side. Even if Faith had been working for the right side for a few years now, the things the slayer had done in Sunnydale when she worked with the Mayor were never far from Willow's mind. Still, the witch managed a small, "Thank you."  
  
"You should have woke me when you went down to get these," Faith said as she lifted her pile of books and hefted it onto the front desk. Willow put a few more books besides Faith's pile, checking to see if any of them had gotten damaged in the fall. It was probably a good thing Wesley hadn't been around to witness that not-so-wonderful display of dexterity and the result it had on his collection.  
  
"It's okay. You were still sleeping and I didn't want to wake you. After all a tired slayer is a cranky slayer," Willow had lived with Buffy in Sunnydale long enough to realize that slayers were usually not morning people. Still worried from last night's slight argument she asked, "Have you seen Connor? He was still gone when I got up this morning."  
  
Faith was perusing one of the books, looking at an etching of a demon with six claws. It looked particularly nasty, but she would have loved to take it on. Hearing Willow's question, she barely looked up when she answered, "Kid keeps weird hours, don't worry. Or if you do worry, don't tell him. He'll just tell you he's fine and go further into brooding," She sounded like she spoke from experience. Then on a brighter note, she commented, "I heard him come in this morning. He's probably still sleeping."  
  
Willow let the issue slid for the time being, watching as the slayer brought the book she was looking at over to the couch. Making herself comfortable, Faith checked through the pages with mild interest. "What exactly are we looking for?"  
  
"I'm not sure yet. It depends on what research Wesley already did." The witch frowned as she found the page Wesley had wrote down in his email in the Arcana Grimorium. "I knew it wasn't going to be that easy," She muttered. Then, bringing the book over towards the sitting area, Willow told Faith, "This has all the information we need to stop the vortex. Unfortunately, it says nothing about the portal. Most likely, they didn't know anything about that until after it happened or he would have given me a little more to go on here."  
  
"That's one hurdle though," Faith shrugged, a little less concerned than the witch. "Just have to find something about opening portals. Shouldn't be too hard." The two of them looked over at the stack of books, the twenty- something huge volumes, and all the pep went out of Faith's talk. They were going to be researching until they couldn't read straight anymore. With a resigned sigh, Faith turned a page in her book, "Let's get to work."  
  
A couple of hours later Willow was sitting surrounded by three different piles of books. Sorting through them, she had set up her own system of organization. Those books wouldn't be much help, those that dealt with various demons and some of the old watcher's journals Wesley still kept around. Those that might help, which were mainly about prophecies and one on the Senior Partners. And those that they should defiantly read first, mainly thin manuscripts that contained all the information on wormholes and alternate universes. There still wasn't much to go on, but at least this was a start, Willow mused.  
  
There was one other book sorted in with the others. A photo album that held no apparent value until she opened its pages. When she did look inside, Willow grinned to herself and showed it to Faith who had been getting bored from all the inactive reading, "Look at this."  
  
Faith folded down the page in the Oxnard's Compendium she was reading, putting it aside. Reaching down to where Willow was sitting on the floor, Faith took photo album from her, "Aww.. what a cute little baby he was," she mocked, "Only, what, three and a half years ago. They grow up so fast."  
  
Faith held the book so that Willow could see as they both perused Connor's baby album. It was burnt on the edges and only covered up to the first month. Cordelia's neat handwriting sprawled across each of the Polaroid photos, little notes to remember the moment by: 'Connor's first smile', 'Look at the proud papa', 'Stranger things have happened, right?'.  
  
Lost in the cuteness, neither of them realized Connor was standing behind them until he asked, "What are you looking at?"  
  
Willow jumped up, clutching the photo album to her chest before relaxing visibly, "Oh, Connor, hi. You woke up, I see. Good, you can help us look through the rest of these books. We found some information on the—"  
  
Connor watched curiously as Willow tucked the photo album closer to her chest, trying to hide it behind her crossed arms. His eyebrows raised in amusement as the girl stumbled over her ineffective excuse. Then, seeing an opening in her guarded stance, he darted his hand forth, pulling the book back with a suddenness that was inhuman. He flicked open the book, hearing Faith let out something that was between a chuckle and a smirking snicker.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry into your life or anything," Willow felt the urge to explain, even though there really wasn't anything to apologize for. They hadn't gotten off on such a great start the night before. She had wanted things to go better today, but doubted they were going to. "That was with the rest of the books they hid away for safe keeping. We were just.. you know.. looking."  
  
He sat on the couch, looking numbly at the photos. Everyone looked so happy in them, so unaware that things were going to change drastically.  
  
Faith's voice shook him from his reverie as she took on an unnatural cutesy accent that she only used to tease him. "The 'Connor's first bath' ones were soooo cute."  
  
He just rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly, closing the book. Casually, he placed the photo album on a coffee table, not wanting to look at it anymore. Then looking at the other books that covered their workspace Connor asked, "Have you guys found out anything yet?"  
  
"Other than the fact that watcher's led very boring lives and leave out all the fun parts," Faith pointed to Wesley's old watcher's journal, which had been a part of the collection. "Not so much."  
  
"We did find a way to stop the vortex," Willow clarified, "But the portal still remains a mysterious mystery." She shifted some of the books around, figuring out which one to start reading first. "But there has to be something in all these."  
  
"Can I help," Connor asked, his own brand of apology for his behavior the night before.  
  
Willow smiled, partly because they weren't so awkward around each other anymore and partly because with extra help they each had less work to do. Handing over a dusty book that was bound in what she really hoped wasn't human skin, Willow replied, "Start with this one."  
  
The hours came and went as the research party dragged on. Willow didn't seem as bored as the other two. She had always enjoyed reading back, even since her geeky pre-teen years. Plus, as an added bonus, the magicks in the books giving her ideas for spells to try on her own when she had some free time. She jotted a few notes down on a pad of paper about waxberry root and silently reprimanded herself to get back to thinking about the real task. Turning a page, her eyes skimmed through the text until she saw something that caught her eye. Thinking it over, she knew it would work.  
  
"Oh, I think I found something," She said excitedly, jumping up. The pad of paper was carelessly dropped to the floor as she showed the book to Faith and Connor. The witch looked sheepish at her overjoy moment, but the other two seemed happy enough to break away from the boring reading for a moment.  
  
Willow continued, "It's all in here. A simple, well, not simple actually, but it'll be simple for me, once we have all the right ingredients and figure out the right spot to do it in.. but.." She caught herself in her rambling tangent and smiled broadly, "With a little reworking, I can change this ritual around so that it will allow us to open a portal. We just have to perform it in the exact same place the other one opened."  
  
"That's easy," Connor offered, "I know where that is. It's only a block away from here."  
  
"And then we need.." Willow's voice fell away as she read the next passage. A small frown creased her lips, as she pondered over the success rate of her plan. "We need an Orb of Toa. That's not going to be able to get. There's a guy in town that deals with black market stuff like this, but he'll most likely charge an arm and a leg. Literally."  
  
"Don't worry, Red," Faith said as she dropped the book she had been reading, happy to be getting down to more physical work again. "Me and the kid can take care of him. We'll get the orb of.. whatever and make sure no one gets hurt in the bargain. Well, unless it's the dealer."  
  
"We can go tonight," Connor agreed.  
  
Willow was silent for a moment, doing a simple meditational locator spell she had learned in Bolivia. After the news had been passed along to the witches in South America that she had been the one to channel the goddess and help close the Hellmouth, they had been lining up to talk with her. She'd learned so much from everyone there, especially this one location meditation. Willow's eyes glowed white briefly. Then as her focus came back to the room once more, she jotted down an address, "You can find the dealer here. Ask for Dahok. He has the orb we need. He'll try to tell you he doesn't, but don't take his word for it."  
  
"So, is that it?" Faith asked as she looked over the address, "Are we done?"  
  
"There's one other small issue," Willow answered, "We have to stop the vortex before we open the portal, or else the dark magicks in the air will mix. But once that energy dissipates, the baddies will stop feeding off its power and will close up shop and go back home."  
  
"Works for me," Faith nodded. "Shut the vortex down, open the portal, party. It's a plan. Before we go out tonight, I say we order some Chinese. In honor of our victory over the literary word and finding the info we needed."  
  
"Even though we really didn't help much," Connor added with a grin. That was okay though, there were other areas where the two of them would shine, mainly kicking the ass of this Dahok guy.  
  
.......................................  
  
More to come. Promise! 


	15. Chapter 15

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 15  
  
By Vixen  
  
With a grumpy frown fixed upon her face, Faith walked into the Hyperion and plopped herself down on the steps. The night had been one of the worst since arriving in Los Angeles, if only because the only lead they had on the Orb needed to open the portal had been a bust. She looked up as Connor entered the hotel shortly afterwards, wearing the same annoyed expression as the slayer. Soundlessly she watched as he stowed his new toy behind the front desk, a broadsword. The only thing they had found at the address Willow had provided them.  
  
"Well, that was embarrassing," Faith noted as rested her tired feet. Slayer strength or not, walking the sixty blocks to the old warehouse and back again was killer on her feet. Transportation in the city was still iffy, especially after dark. "Show up for a party, only to realize we're late and nobody's there."  
  
Connor only nodded, not paying much attention to Faith's attempt at conversation.  
  
Upon hearing the two of them come back, Willow had gotten out of bed. She hadn't even fallen asleep yet even though it was past two in the morning. Instead, she had laid awake anxiously awaiting word from the other two. She joined them in the lobby, wearing a pair of Scooby Doo pajama pants and a white tank top, "What's with all the long faces? Did you find the dealer?"  
  
"We found.. pieces of him," Connor answered hesitantly, images from the scene replaying in his mind. He pushed back a forthcoming shudder and looked up at the witch. Her mood had soured with the grim realization.  
  
Then Faith added, "Someone must have gotten to him first. Dahok was dead and the whole place was cleaned out. Looked like whoever did it didn't want us to reopen the portal."  
  
Willow sat down next to Faith, suddenly feeling as grumpy as the other two, "There goes that plan. Unless we can track down whoever got to the dealer, but that's going to take another couple of days at the very least." The collective mood was stiffing to the witch, looking at each aura she could see their pain and confusion. The lives of demon fighters were never easy. Glancing at the clock on the far wall, she remarked, "Best thing we can do now is get some sleep. We'll figure out a new plan tomorrow. Hopefully things will look a little better in the morning."  
  
Faith reluctantly agreed, even though Willow's ever-positive mood was less than endearing. Tiredly, the slayer followed Willow up to the second floor. A warm bed would feel so very welcoming at the moment. She looked behind her, where Connor was still sitting on the stairs, deep in thought. Faith gave a fleeting thought to talking to him, but shrugged the idea away. They weren't really friends, barely even talked lately, there was no need for her to worry about him so much. Yet, she couldn't push her concern for him completely.  
  
Connor had been expecting a fight that night, and a part of him still wanted one. They had arrived at the warehouse a little too late, finding the place already ambushed and lacking anything to fight. Too late. Always too late. It was the common element of his life since returning to Los Angeles a week ago. He heard the two bedroom doors upstairs shut, and knew he should be retiring too. He couldn't though, not while still wanting to kick some ass. Faith and him had met a vampire while walking back to the Hyperion, but the slayer had killed it before Connor could even get a decent punch in.  
  
Instead of going to bed, Connor crossed the lobby of the hotel and opened the door that led to the basement. He moved down the wooden stairs, and a small exercise area came into view. There was a punching bag, some free weights, and various weapons hanging on the wall. Not anything expensive, most of the better weapons had been packed up and carted across town, taken to Wolfram and Hart when Angel Investigations had moved. These were just the leftovers, unimportant and replaceable.  
  
He'd been spending more and more time down there. Whenever he couldn't sleep at night, when the nightly dreams got to be too much and Connor needed a release. Or those few hours when he was awake during the day, before the things that went bump in the night came out to play. It had been his father's training area, but now it belonged to him.  
  
Tossing his jacket on the bottom step of the stairs, Connor moved over towards the punching bag. Working off some steam, he gave it a few jabs at first before getting progressively harder. Combinations of right and left hooks left little dents in the bag as it swung on it's heavy chains, making a clanking sound every time Connor punched it. Luckily the girls were two floors up and wouldn't be able to hear him, they'd only worry about him. He didn't want that, couldn't afford it.  
  
The bag jumped and shook as Connor worked out his emotions; everything he had been holding inside he took out on the inanimate target. Furiously, he began a rhythmic series of moves, feeling tired muscles spring into action.  
  
Engrossed in his technique, Connor barely heard the footsteps behind him. Stopping in the middle of a left hook, he turned sharply. Something was there watching him. It wasn't one of the girls though; he knew their scents already. It didn't smell like them, in fact it didn't smell at all, like a ghost. A presence leaving no discernable clues that it was actually there, unless you counted the fact that Connor could feel it watching him. It was like the day at the beach, or when he thought he heard Holtz's voice. It was the same presence; it gave him the same creepy feeling. Only this time Connor wasn't going to let it get away.  
  
Taking a guarded step towards the middle of the room. Connor's eyes narrowed, going over every inch of the room carefully, watching for movement. He looked behind some boxes, most likely left over from the big move to Wolfram and Hart, but found no one. Hearing the footsteps again behind him, Connor quickly spun around and came face to face with the thing that had been stalking him.  
  
Shocked with what he was looking at, Connor took a step backwards. It was him, but not exactly. This Other-Connor had a paler skin tone, like he had spent his life growing up in a cave. Other-Connor also had longer and shaggier hair, rather poor fashion sense (animal skins.. somehow Connor doubted that would ever be a new trend), and a vengeful glint in his eyes. Finding his voice, Connor managed to get out a few words, "O...kay.. This is new."  
  
Other-Connor only glared at him, closing the space between them.  
  
Connor looked the doppelganger up and down, reaching out tentatively to test the tangibility of what he was viewing. When his hand went straight though, touching nothing but air Connor blinked, hoping that would be enough to clear this vision from his eyes. It didn't work. More than a little confused, he asked, "What are you?"  
  
"I'm you. Before Angel started messing around with our memories." Other- Connor's voice dripped with anger while saying the A-word, he had apparently not gotten over the need for revenge yet. Connor could remember those days, but couldn't connect with that feeling anymore. Then Other- Connor added, "You know he only changed the past to get us out of the way. You know he wanted to get rid of us, and you're still want to help him."  
  
"That's not true," Connor shook his head, even though it was still a doubt in his mind. Ever since he had learned about the spell, subconsciously he wondered if getting rid of him was part of the reason why Angel had done what he did. He didn't like to think that way, but it had still been a possibility buried deep in his mind. Though, if that was true Angel wouldn't have shown up at the coffee shop a week ago, just wanting to see him one last time before the inevitable happened. Straightening up, he replied with greater strength in his voice, "And I'm not like you. I have a family, a life now."  
  
"That's not real, they don't matter," Other-Connor growled, "That's only what Angel created. Only more lies to cover up the truth."  
  
"You don't understand," Connor said dismissively. There was a hint of pity in his voice, mixed with regret. So much time had been wasted back when he had been the same as his doppelganger, when he only thought of revenge and getting even with his father. Getting back to business he added, "Why are you here? Is there something you want or are you just here to annoy me to death?"  
  
"I'm here to stop you from reopening the portal," Other-Connor told him, "Any way I can."  
  
"Well, considering you can even touch me," Connor waved a hand through the space his twin occupied, touching nothing but air. "There's really nothing you can do about it. So why don't you go back to whatever hell you came from and leave me alone, okay?"  
  
"I'll find a way. I won't let you bring that monster back into the world. He's not the hero you wish he was. He should be locked away," Other-Connor gestured to the cage that occupied half the room. It had been installed when Angel Investigations had needed information on The Beast. The bars were thick and sturdy, the best they could afford when they had put it in there. Safety had been the main concern, not the cost. Safety against Angelus, against the thing that wore his father's face from time to time, against the evil the vampire's true nature could do. Connor starred at it, knowing it would always be impossible to have the normal father-son relationship other people possessed. He'd never be able to completely trust his father, not with Angelus lurking somewhere underneath waiting to paint the world a macramé red. "Get out of here."  
  
"Why? Have you turned into a liar just like the rest of them? Have you turned your back on the truth so long you can't face it anymore?" Other- Connor moved closer, "Or are you still The Destroyer underneath it all?"  
  
It was Connor's greatest worry, that he had not changed as much as he hoped. That all the things his normal life had given him meant nothing. Connor couldn't go back to being what he was, he wouldn't. It hurt to even consider the path his life had taken. Screaming, he attacked his twin, "Get OUT!"  
  
He threw wild punches through Other-Connor's head, knowing they would not connect, but that didn't matter in his rage. Furiously, Connor screamed through gritted teeth. The only result of his onslaught was more agitation and a chuckling sound from Other-Connor that seemed unnatural coming from him.  
  
The door at the top of the stairs opened, halting Connor in his attack. He looked up as Faith stopped a few steps from the basement floor. She was already in her sleep clothes and looked like she had just gotten out of bed, "Hey, kid, who are you talking to?"  
  
His attention turned back to the phantom he'd been fighting, or trying to fight, but it had vanished. Connor ran a hand through his hair and fished for an excuse, "Uh.. no one." Faith glanced around the basement, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Hoping she would buy his lame excuse Connor added nervously, "Really. No one's here but me."  
  
She nodded absently and walked back upstairs. With Connor's above average hearing he could make out her muttering, "I swear that kid gets weirder and weirder each and every day."  
  
Connor sighed; he was alone once more. Faith had accepted his lie, but he knew what she was thinking. She'd been giving him wary glances for a week now, just waiting for him to crack. Hell, even he thought he was going crazy. Hearing things, seeing things.. but there had been something down there with him. Hadn't there? He'd met his new enemy face to face, if only that face hadn't been so familiar. At least he knew what he was fighting now.  
  
Himself.  
  
His past.  
  
Connor only hoped he was strong enough to get through whatever his doppelganger threw at him, and brave enough to deal with a past filled with so many wrongs that could never be corrected completely.  
  
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cough'FirstEvil'cough  
  
Grr... I had to write this chapter twice when my computer ate it the first time. I hate technology. Sorry for the delay. I'm really trying to get back to posting every day. 


	16. Chapter 16

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 16  
  
By Vixen  
  
Spike dipped down into the crystal clear waters of the lake, enjoying the solitude. The others were off practicing, training, doing the hero thing. He'd gotten the day off to relax, and taking a cool bath was the only thing on his mind. The waters parted as his naked body sank deeper into the serenely calm waves. The lake was about a mile from camp, far enough to risk some skinny-dipping without fear of interruptions or any of his new groupies finding him in various stages of undress.  
  
The cool lake water lapped at his stomach, and he walked further in, sinking his toes into the sandy bottom. Once it reached his shoulders, Spike dived into the water headfirst, swam out a few feet, and surfaced a little farther away. The water ran through his hair, which was longer now, the length where it started getting curly. Roots were also showing, brown like his natural color. It's been a long time since he'd had a chance to dye it, since he'd been in Los Angeles.  
  
The double suns beat down on the land, washing the purple hills with a warm reddish glow. Spike barely thought about going out in the sun anymore, or how strange it was that a vampire could be outside during the day, it had becoming commonplace. If he ever returned to Los Angeles, he wondered if he'd just forget about not being able to go outside and accidentally burn up some day. Better to burn up than out at least.  
  
There was movement in the bushes by the shore. It caught Spike's eye and he stopped swimming and put his feet back on the sandy ground again. Annoyed, he kept look out for any more signs someone was watching him. If it turned out to be one of the young girls from the tribe again, trying to catch him while he was undressed, they'd have one angry Spike on their hands. At first it was nice, everyone acting like he was the hero, fawning over him and following him around. It got old real fast though; his frisky fans were one thing he didn't know how to handle.  
  
After the first minor incident with one of the women, Angel had warned him not to go around having casual affairs with them. Spike had scoffed at that, figuring the poof was just upset he couldn't get any without going all evil and losing his soul. Though when his fan base had grown along with the amount of girls gawking at him like he was a sex symbol, it did get a bit unnerving. Of course Spike didn't blame them, he thought himself devilishly handsome after all. But they did the weirdest things, like trying to sneak into his bedroom late at night or that one time when they stole all his clothes while he was bathing. Like rabid little bunnies, they were.  
  
The waters stirred as Spike walked towards the shoreline, stopping right when the water was at his waist. If it was one of the girls, they weren't going to get a show from him. The tall grass swayed as a figure stood up; straightening up to it's full height. Blond hair cascades off her shoulders, flowing straight down past her curvaceous breasts. Her pouting eyes starred longingly at him, startling Spike.  
  
Buffy.  
  
But how could she be here? He looked up at the suns, wondering if he'd been outside too long, maybe vampires didn't burn up in this dimension but instead went crazy. Spike felt his forehead; it was wet to the touch but only from the swimming not from a fever. He could barely get a hold of his senses long enough to croak out a few words, "Buffy?"  
  
He wanted it to be her, and yet at the same time was petrified that it might just be. She was the one thing in his life he'd never been able to face head on, directly and confidently. The power she had held against him while they were in their own dimension was so strong it kept him away when he became corporal again, even though she was the one thing he wanted after escaping the amulet. Now, here in a world that was not his own, he wanted to take comfort in her beauty, her touch. Some impossible twist of luck had brought her here, and he didn't care why. They were together again.  
  
Buffy just smiled and giggled, saying nothing before shimmying out of her sheer white skirt and tossing her tank top over the tall weeds. Spike starred with needlessly bated breath, watching her peal away pieces of clothing, throwing them aside unthinkingly. It had to be a dream; Buffy would never have gotten naked so quickly, and with such a smile on her face. Still, a dream was better than nothing. He had to take advantage of this illusions produced by his subconscious while it lasted, before waking up alone again.  
  
"Spike, I've missed you," The slayer said, dipping the tips of her toes in the water, testing the temperature and testing him. "You should have come back to me."  
  
The vampire's eyes never left her shape, smooth and naked. Her tan skin looked healthy and pure in the sunlight, he hadn't seen her in the sun since he'd stolen the ring of Amarra, and he hadn't been interested in her back then. Well, interested yes.. but he had only wanted to kill her, not sleep with her. Not caress her warm bare skin, like he did now. When she knew she had gotten his attention, she slipped into the lake, walking in up to her knees.  
  
She bent down and touched the water with her hand, and then splashed him with it. Giggling, she walked closer to him, running a hand across his dripping wet chest, tracing spirals and swirls along his skin, "We belong together, you know."  
  
Their lips met, but it didn't feel the same as when he had kissed her times before. Spike wanted to believe that this was real, or at least a dream, which he'd never wake up from, but his senses had picked up something. He took a step back, breaking from the tender kiss, and growled, "Illyria! What the blood hell are you playing at?"  
  
The Buffy-look-alike frowned, her game ended. Pausing for a moment, she looked up at the sky and let changed back into normal form, the one that looked more like Fred then the slayer. Cold blue eyes replaced warm green ones, her hair shifted back to its blue shade, and her skin became paler with a bluish tint. The change wasn't only a physical one, but the way she held herself changed as well. Movements became sharp and mechanical, inhuman.  
  
Spike watched the transformation take place, annoyed that he had let his guard down. She had looked so much like the girl he once loved; he had wanted it to be her so much it now hurt. The look of wounded disappointment Illyria now possessed did nothing to bring about pity from the vampire, instead he pushed her downwards at full strength.  
  
Her still naked body fell backwards into the water. Illyria landed on her elbows, remaining silent in her defeat, preferring not to watch as Spike stomped out of the land, grumbling British curses that were unfamiliar to her ears. She could have easily beaten him back, and Spike wondered momentarily why she didn't. He would have welcomed a fight right then, anger tearing at him.  
  
When she finally met him at the shore, he was shoving his pants on. The tight red catsuit and boots she usually wore reformed out of nothingness and the own power contained in her mind. Meanwhile, he grabbed his shirt and finished buckling the belt.  
  
When he was fully dressed, he rounded on her. She appeared helpless, crying, and he could do nothing to hide his astonishment but yell, "Think it's funny to dress up as other people, do you? Was it a good laugh for you, huh?"  
  
Wet hair hung in clumps around her head, while the tears fell from her eyes. Spike had never seen her this upset, showing emotions. It was not like her. Something had to be wrong, but he didn't care what it was. He turned to leave, but she grasped onto his arm, "I have never felt such grief. The emotions this shell can experience are.. unbearable." Her voice shook in impatience, "I was trying to replace the human, is that not what you are expected to do when someone dies. I was Fred's replacement, but I cannot find any being able to fill.. his place."  
  
"How about your little followers from this tribe? Why don't you toddle off and beat them about the head. You always enjoyed that," Spike was in no mood to make conversation or to comfort her. She was a god, what the hell did she need a vampire for except to be a prospective companion for her anguish. That was a role he couldn't fill, and honestly didn't want to.  
  
"I ingested their foul ale, it filled my head with ache when the suns rose. It did nothing to destroy these feelings. My new followers have called me goddess, divine, rare, as I should be and have been. They have sprung up to bow down before my superiority," Her eyes were shadowy as she walked beside the vampire, unusual emotions flickering behind them. For the most part, he ignored her attempt to follow him. "They have offered me companions of every sort.. and still I think of him. You existed on the same plane as he, the same dimension, you will make an acceptable substitution."  
  
He cocked his head towards her, "Here's what you're not getting Blue: I. Don't. Care. Go find some other toy, I'm done with this."  
  
The sadness left her eyes, fury replacing it. Illyria crossed her arms and stuck out her chin, "You should feel honored I have chosen you to be the human's replacement. To be my companion is a job worthy of honor and respect, but I see you are capable of receiving none of that."  
  
Spike pointed wildly at the shell, unable to contain the irritation her flippant attitude was causing him. "Trouble with you is you think replacing people is so easy," Thinking back to the time Drusilla had left him, he remarked, "It never is. Can't just take one and pretend it's another."  
  
"Your leader replaced his son," Illyria pointed out. Even though she did not understand the depths of human, or vampire, emotions the bond that had formed between Angel and Terrin in the past weeks was evident.  
  
"What are you jabbering on about?" Spike's confused face gaped at her, "Leader.. Angel? Do you mean Angel? He never had a son."  
  
"He had one, Connor," Illyria delighted in breaking the news, letting the truth slip out. The resulting conflict her words would cause between the two half-breeds would be fun to watch, and would get them out of her hair. Then she would not have to think about this one and the way he twisted the shell's dying emotions in knots. "He attempted to camouflage the truth, hiding it in lies and shadows, but when the spell shattered I received the memories that were true to the shell."  
  
Spike scoffed. Although Illyria rarely lied, he would not believe it, "Not bloody likely. Especially not a eunuch like him."  
  
Before walking away, Illyria starred at him with her unfeeling eyes, "I speak the truth, half-breed. If you are too much of a fool to listen to me, then go converse with your leader. Ask him and you will see."  
  
Spike growled as Illyria walked away, she had a nasty habit of always getting the last word. Throwing on his t-shirt, Spike decided to go check out this story on his own. He hated listening to Illyria's suggestions, especially when she referred to Angel as his leader, didn't she know Spike was his own man. Just because the poof had gone back to wanting to play the hero, didn't mean Spike had to obey him. Didn't work like that. Still, despite it being Illyria's suggestion, he had to get to the bottom of this.  
  
It didn't make sense, but she wasn't known for making up stories.. except when it concerned the days of yore when she was great and powerful and blah, blah, blah.. Spike could never pay attention to her ego-enhanced stories long enough to get to the end of them. But if she wasn't lying about him having a son.. the possibilities boggled the mind. It would at least give Spike something new to tease Angel about.  
  
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Thanks for all the great feedback everyone's been giving me. You guys are the best! 


	17. Chapter 17

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 17  
  
By Vixen  
  
That night's plan had been easier than Faith had figured it would be. Willow and her had set off to find whoever had trashed the dark arts dealer's warehouse, to see if they could get back the orb that had been stolen. As it turned out, vamps were the culprits. And rather stupid ones at that, Faith had remarked upon following the obvious trail they had left. How she had missed it the first time she had staked out the warehouse, Faith couldn't imagine.  
  
Willow had come with the slayer this time. After getting some much-needed rest at the hotel, the witch was in top form and had been shown off a few tricks. A ball of sunshine to burst through the vamp thieves' lair effortlessly. Though first she had let the slayer get her jollies by staking a few of the more petulant vampires first. Faith had to admit they worked well as a team. There was at least more conversing than when she went out with Connor. A regular girl's night out, just like going to the movies.. only the special effects were better.  
  
The slayer looked at the orb Willow carried as they walked down the city streets. Sucking down a blueberry slurpee from their late night visit at the only convenience store still open, Faith nodded towards the mystical device. "Think it'll really work?"  
  
Willow held up her hand, starring into the orb's yellowish glassy surface. On the outside it didn't look like much, and it didn't give off that many magical vibes. The witch could feel it however, the power it contained, the worlds it could open up. She also felt the damage it could wreak in the wrong hands. It could drag the whole world into a hell dimension if the magick user didn't know what they were doing. Luckily the vamps they had acquired it from had not known it's true power, but now that Willow could feel the darkness swirling inside of it, she was a bit wary of performing the spell. Still, she only smiled and reassuringly said; "It'll work. We just have to stop the vortex first, then we're in business."  
  
"You're worried about losing yourself," Faith commented, looking closely at her ally. She'd heard the stories of Dark Willow, knew what she was capable of. The slayer knew that path, the darkness that could reach out and grab hold of a person. It was probably the only thing Willow and her had in common. Lending her encouragement, Faith punched her in the arm lightly, "Don't be. If you go all veiny scary, with the black hair and all, I'll just knock you around and make you come to your senses."  
  
Willow laughed, Faith had a strange way of comforting people with mock- hostility. Returning the flippant tone, the Witch responded, "Gee, thanks.. I'm so glad you'll be there to kick my ass if the need arised."  
  
"Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" Faith didn't catch her words until they had left her mouth. Standing in the middle of the walkway that led to the Hyperion, she shot Willow a startled look. Friends.. it was a long way from where they had started from. However, they'd closed a hellmouth together before, and with the work they were doing in Los Angeles lately. Still, she couldn't hope for everything to be all peachy-keen between them. And what the hell did she need friends for anyway, Faith asked herself and tried to shrug it off.  
  
Willow saw the way Faith was looking at her, and understood instantly what the girl was thinking. Attempting to put the past behind them Willow smiled and gave a small nod, "Sure, Faith. Friends. We can handle that without killing each other, right?"  
  
It was a step in the right direction towards redemption and coming clean. Faith could have squealed in joy, just for the sheer fact that one of the Scoobies had finally forgiven her, but she was really not the squealing type, unless she was in bed.. but that was a whole other topic. Instead, she simply held the door to the hotel open for the other girl, "That's cool with me."  
  
Willow looked at the open door, giving it a worried glance. It was then that Faith realized all the lights were off. It was a little odd that it was dark inside, what with Connor staying home. He had complained of a headache when they were gearing up to go out that night. Faith had expected to find him up, pacing the lobby or reading or something. It was only eleven, and the kid was quite the night owl.  
  
"Okay, trouble is definitely brewing," The slayer said as she heard something slam hard against a wall. It sounded like a fist, and then some indistinct voice mumbling on the second floor. Willow craned her ear to hear it, but she still couldn't make out what it was saying.  
  
They entered the hotel and Willow stowed the magical orb in her coat pocket, preparing for a fight. It had been a while since she had to defend herself, but with the slayer and her own magick she knew she'd be okay. She watched Faith as the slayer quietly tiptoed up the stairs. As the slayer got further and further away from the other girl, Willow could barely even make out her shape in the darkness of the old building. She made a small ball of light with her hands, forming it from the ether and continued up after the slayer.  
  
"Leave me alone," The voice was clearer when they got to the second floor, the sound carrying well across the empty hallways. "What do you know, you're not.. what? No, I didn't.. you don't know that, you don't know anything."  
  
Faith stopped, listening and then looked at Willow. The ball of light bounced between them, shadowing Faith's face like she was holding a flashlight under her chin as if to tell a scary campfire story. Keeping her voice low, she whispered, "Connor."  
  
"But who's he talking to," Willow couldn't hear another voice, but a door slammed shut somewhere down the corridor. The ball of light returned to hovering over the witch's shoulder, as she followed Faith around a corner. She could tell the other girl was listening for another voice, some sign of the trouble they faced when they got to where the commotion was centered, so Willow stayed quiet and didn't disturb her.  
  
Faith opened each other doors of the hallway, allowing the ball of light to glide around each of them and do a quick sweep. When it returned to the girls bouncing up and down, signaling the room was clear of trespassers, the slayer shut that door and moved on to the next one. It was mostly just a precaution, since the sound had been coming from the far end of the hallway, but she didn't want to be led into a trap only to have something come from behind.  
  
One by one, the girls checked each room, with the ball of light as their guide. Nothing out of the ordinary could be seen, so they moved to the last room and prepared for a fight. Faith opened the door, slowly and checked the corners, pushing forward slowly into the room. There was a quiet murmuring behind the twin-sized bed that took up most of the room's space. It sounded like crying.  
  
"Connor," Willow called out softly, "Are you in here?" When she received no reply, she slowly walked around the bed. When she saw Connor there, huddled with his arms around his knees, the redhead knelt down beside him. He was whispering quietly to himself, obviously distressed. Willow smoothed his hair back, as Faith checked out the room for any signs of trouble. There were none, just the boy, which worried Faith even more. She stood over Willow and Connor, not knowing what to do. The caregiver role was more Willow's territory. "Connor, come on talk to me. Are you okay?"  
  
"Why won't he leave me alone? He's always here.. just under the surface.. just..," Connor shook his head, quieting again. When he began speaking again, Willow couldn't make out the rest of his words they were spoke so softly, just noiseless ramblings.  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Faith asked, a little more direct. She got Connor's attention though, he looked up through teary eyes. Though it appeared more like he was looking straight through her, not comprehending any part of reality. She glanced uneasily away from the boy and his blank expression, directing her conversation to Willow, "Well, the kid's finally flipped."  
  
"Shut up," Connor said towards his shoulder. No one could be seen there, and Willow's brow scrunched up even more in concern. "Is that what you want? Will that make you leave me the hell alone?" Suddenly, he glared back at the two of girls, reality half-sinking in. At least he knew they were there now, but Willow wasn't sure if that was really a good thing when he unexpectedly stood up, falling easily into a fighting stance. "I am not a little kid."  
  
"Connor.." Willow called to him in a shaking voice, his full strength and furor was startling when he let it all show through. She soon realized that calling out to him really wasn't a good idea when he bent over her, focusing his attention on one target instead of two. Willow backed against the wall, but he shot out his arm. He grasped the witch's neck with one hand, and hauled her to her feet. "My father used to read me the bible when I was a little boy. There was this line.. about witches, people like you. 'Though shall not suffer a witch to live'."  
  
Willow's eyes went wide, comprehending the full weight of his words. Faith tried to fight back, to get the situation under control, but the slayer was sent sailing away from the confrontation but a backhanded punch from Connor. She landed hard against a desk corner, blacking out momentarily. Willow's face was slowly losing its color, as Connor tightened his hold on her neck. She tried to choke out a few words of protection, but her powers couldn't be called upon when she was struggling just to remain conscious. The ball of light began to flicker, the room going from dark to light and then back again.  
  
Willow watched as Connor continued choking her, and then black spots began to appear in front of her eyes. She could barely make out the shape of the slayer coming towards the two of them, luckily Connor didn't see her moving either. He was too preoccupied with enjoying his first kill in over a year. Willow mentally begged Faith to hurry up. When the slayer picked up a chair and brought it down over Connor's head, Willow slid to the floor. The boy crumpled into a heap next to her, losing consciousness.  
  
The redhead breathed hard, gathering her energy. Shakily she rose to her feet; she glanced over at Faith whom looked just as unsettled. Though the confusion was missing from the slayer's eyes. It was almost like she had expected this. Willow's attention was brought back to the boy when he started to stir. Calling upon the goddess, Willow worded an incantation, "Rememdium."  
  
Connor's eyes blinked open, the healing spell clearing both the physical pain from his body and the mental jumble. The disorientated expression was gone, replaced with shame, as the knowledge of what he had just attempted to do shocked him back to reality. "Willow.. oh god," He shook his head, reaching out to her but brought it back abruptly. Not knowing how to make it up to her, he hopped over the bed and began running out of the hotel instead. He stumbled down the stairs in the darkness in his escape to get away from the near fatal mistake. Although he could hear the two girls rushing after him, he didn't look back and he didn't slow down.  
  
..............................................  
  
Boo Yeah! Another chapter done. Behold my happiness. 


	18. Chapter 18

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 18  
  
By Vixen  
  
"Ready," Angel asked, and tied the last harnesses of the horse's saddle. There was something about horses; almost every alternate dimension had them, well except the Land of Only Shrimp. But there had to be an exception to every rule.  
  
Terrin nodded earnestly, but kept quiet as Angel helped him into the saddle. The young boy then waited while Angel mounted his own horse, borrowed from one of the local tribesmen. They'd been riding together every other day for a month now. Angel had been the one to teach the boy the basics of riding, how to spur the horse into a canter, gallop, jumping would come later the man had promised.  
  
Angel clicked his tongue, and dug the heel of his boot into the soft stomach of his horse, moving it into a slow walk. Terrin followed behind, and they set out into the desert. It was actually a pretty nice area the tribe had chosen to settle this month. Warm and arid, like most all of the other places they'd been, but the sunsets were spectacular.  
  
While Angel tried to get the theme of Bonanza out of his head, he looked over at the boy. When they had first met, Terrin had been unresponsive, frightened of leaving the tribe's site. Now though, he welcomed the time away, smiling during the whole ride. His proficiency with his own horse had grown as well, he handled the reigns with care, knowing just how to control the animal and get it to work with him instead of against him. Still, he said nothing during their trips. The stress of what he'd experienced years ago not dissipating so easily.  
  
Angel wondered what he could be thinking deep in that head of his. Though the quiet was soothing and the rides relaxing after a day of training, he had inwardly hoped he'd be able to cure the emotional damage done to the boy. That though seemed impossibly, however he remained patient and hopeful. It was more than helping the helpless, every time he looked at Terrin he couldn't help but be reminded of his own son. So innocent, so fragile, and so broken. Connor had been saved though. It took a deal with the devil, but Angel was happy with the road his son's life had taken, at least the last part of it. If there was hope for Connor, then maybe he could still do something to help this boy.  
  
They galloped past a stream, and an unseen geyser shot up out from it. It was a strange part of the natural environment of this dimension, the waterspouts that shot up every so often. Fiyara had tried to explain the science behind them once, but Angel was never one for science. The water sprayed out at them, soaking their clothes, an unexpected turn of events.  
  
Angel stopped his horse, a scowl fixed upon his face. While he shook some of the water off, he looked over at Terrin. He had gotten just as wet, but it didn't seem to faze him. He was even laughing, an even rarer occurrence.  
  
Listening to the boy's joyful chuckling, Angel forgot his annoyance at the environment. He grinned, "It wasn't supposed to rain today." Terrin continued laughing, now from Angel's lame joke than from the waterspout. Noticing the suns had set and the sky was darkening, Angel remarked, "Let's get back to camp, so we can get some dry clothes, okay?"  
  
Terrin nodded his agreement, turned his horse around and they both set off in a gallop across the desert. When they finally made it back to camp, Angel undid the straps to the saddles and led the horses into the makeshift gated area. Turning to Terrin, Angel said, "Want to go back out tomorrow? I only have one class to teach, and that's in the morning. We'll have a few hours before the sun sets for a nice ride."  
  
A smile, a nod. It was all Terrin would say, but it was a clear yes.  
  
Angel stood by the gate, watching Terrin as he headed for the doorway of the main cave of the tribes' residency. Then he turned and found Spike watching him, as he had expected. "What do you want?"  
  
"You seem to be getting all cozy with the youngster." Spike said as he hopped up onto the fence. With a cocky grin he added, "You old softie, you."  
  
Angel only rolled his eyes, knowing Spike wanted to talk about something more. He always seemed to have an ulterior motive whenever he spoke to the older vampire, "Just get to the point. If there is a point and you're not just following me around so that you can annoy me. Which is something I'm really starting to really believe these days."  
  
"I know something you don't want me to know," Spike's singsong voice was childish, nagging at the vampire's last bit of patience. When he got to the end of his tune, he just smirked, waiting for the other to ask him what it was, daring him.  
  
"And that would be...?" Angel asked impatiently, knowing he was falling into Spike's trap.  
  
"Connor."  
  
The word hung out in the air between them in the still of the night. Then unexpectedly, Angel grabbed Spike's duster, pulled him off the fence, and pushed him against a fence post. Spike's feet dangled in the air as Angel held him up by his duster. Both of them were more than a little startled, one by the fact that his secret was now out, the other because Illyria had not been lying and vampire mythology had been changed drastically. Spike grasped for words, "So, it's true? I'll be damned!"  
  
Angel resisted the urge to tell him that they both already were. Instead in a brash tone, the vampire asked, "How do you know about him?"  
  
Spike shook out of the other vampire's hold, "Blue told me. Didn't figure on it being true. Thought something like that was downright impossible." He straightened up and rattled off a few questions, "How did you do it, mate, weird science or mystical hocus pocus or just plain viagra? And just who in their right minds would sleep with you?"  
  
Ignoring Spike's mock shudder at his last question, Angel told him sternly, "This stays between us. If I find out anyone else knows about my son, I will beat you within every inch of your life. Do you understand me?"  
  
He was bordering on Angelus-type rage, and Spike couldn't think of a reply that wouldn't get his ass kicked right then and there except, "Whatever you say," Then he went back to his teasing, "But next time, it would be nice to be told. You know, do it proper, send a fella a cigar and all that."  
  
Spike walked off, leaving Angel behind and at a loss for words. He shook his head, getting Spike to agree not to say anything had been simple enough. Making sure the younger vampire kept his word would take a bit work. He wondered if he should just tell Gunn the truth, but then the whole issue of switched memories would come up. And that was bound to be a touchy subject. It had been hard enough with Wesley, and Gunn's trust was even harder to earn.  
  
At the thought of Wesley, Angel grew morose. It had been a while since the fight with the Black Thorn, but he still hadn't gotten over the loss of his friend. They'd gone through a lot together, and then it was just over. Just like that. He wondered if they had even changed anything back home, and figured with the way their luck had been going they would never make it back to find out.  
  
..............................................  
  
That's all for today. Tune in tomorrow for more. 


	19. Chapter 19

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 19  
  
By Vixen  
  
All night they had searched throughout the city for Connor. No luck. The boy seemed almost better at hiding than he was at tracking things. Every time Faith through she had picked up the trail and was headed the right way, the clues would lead to a dead end. Willow had even tried doing a locator spell, but she'd been too weak from the fight to effectively use her magick. The sun had risen an hour ago, and they had decided to recuperate at the hotel for a short break, and then go back out searching again.  
  
Walking into the hotel, Willow noticed the lights were on again and there was a faint smell of pancakes wafting through the lobby. It was coming from the small kitchen in the back. Connor entered the room a moment later, carrying a plate of food with him. He tried to downplay the whole incident, giving them an innocent grin that belied his true feelings, "Hi, guys."  
  
"They're always in the last place you look, aren't they," Faith spoke with an edge of sarcasm.  
  
Connor didn't know how this conversation was supposed to work, and figured that anything he said at the moment would just sound dumb. Anxiously, he put his breakfast on the counter, turning his back from the two of them. He could barely face them, didn't want to be there, but there was still a job to do. "So, um, how was your night. I made breakfast if you.. want some."  
  
"Uh, uh," Faith told him, walking over to the counter, "You don't get out of this that easy. Sit." She pointed to the couch sternly, and he complied with her order. Standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, Faith starred down at him, "What the hell happened to you last night? You go off on Willow, knock me around, and then you're all fine this morning."  
  
"I'm not fine, okay," Connor spoke the truth forcefully, they needed to know that much at least. That they couldn't trust him, that he couldn't trust himself. He hadn't been fine since the memories came back. It was only a small tear in his mental reasoning back then, only throwing him off balance. Crawling back to who he wanted to be had only taken a few hours the first time, by the time he left Wolfram and Hart he thought he was better. Then getting back into the fighting gig, and the new figment of his imagination, he didn't know if he'd make it back to being happy and carefree Connor again. He looked away, not knowing how to explain himself without sounding like a crazy person. "I'm not fine.. he's just, not here anymore."  
  
"Who's not here anymore," Willow asked as she picked up a photo album from off the couch, Connor's baby album. It appeared he had been going through it before Faith and her had come back to the hotel. Closing it, she gently put the photo album on a nearby end table. Sitting across from Connor, she asked, "Who were you talking to?"  
  
"I don't know." He pulled away from her touch when she reached out comfortingly for his hand. She still had that concerned expression on her face, like she still cared about him. Even though he had tried to kill her only hours ago. Connor couldn't take it, knew he didn't deserve it, "There was someone in my head, talking to me, and if only I could see him than that means I'm like a psycho or insane or something, doesn't it?"  
  
"Not necessarily," Willow reassured him and tried to find the right words, "There are lots of reasons why you would think you might see someone.. um.. bad lighting for example?"  
  
Those were very much not the right words.  
  
Connor jumped up from the couch, "Oh god, I knew it, I am insane." He began rambling and pacing, too scared he was losing his mind to calm down, "Wait, if I were insane would I think I was insane. Or would I think I was sane and think everyone else was crazy.. Or—"  
  
"Whoa, hold on there before you blow another brain cell," Faith said, grasping his shoulders and stopping him in mid-pace. He looked coherent, a little jumpy, but still not like he had the night before. There had to be an explanation to all of this. Getting to the bottom of it, Faith asked, "What did this 'someone' look like?"  
  
Connor grew quiet and serious, his uneasiness starting to fade. Letting the truth come out a little bit more, he said, "Me. He looked like me. Or who I used to be."  
  
Something clicked in Faith's brain, "Remember when I first came here and you told me that whole story about how you got your new life. You said you were kinda reborn into this whole new human family of yours, well.. I'm thinking rebirth doesn't happen without a little bit of death. You didn't.. die, did you? Before that all happened."  
  
"Kinda," He didn't want to get into that here, but if it would make him any less crazy Connor might as well talk about it, "Angel. We um.. fought. And then.. my dad.. he kinda killed me." He could remember it all, vivid imagery and all. The pain he had felt when he slipped away, the darkness just before waking up with a bright and sunny outlook and a new life. Feeling sick from going over it in his mind, Connor sat back down on the couch. Looking back up at Faith, he asked, "But what does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"So, death and someone that no one else can see drivin' you crazy. Add it up, it all equals.."  
  
"The First." Willow finished Faith's sentence. She sat a little further back in her chair, the full ramifications of that kind of evil being back in the game were disastrous. It had come to her after Tara had died, almost convinced her to kill herself. Meeting the first was not something she would wish on anyone, especially not someone with so many issues already. Already gearing up with battle plans, she commented, "It is possible that its back, feeding off the dark energies the vortex is producing."  
  
Connor watched the whole conversation between Faith and Willow not saying a word until Willow was done, "The First? Care to clue me in on this 'the first' thing? Like for starters, what it is."  
  
"The First is the root of all evil," Willow explained. As Connor's eyes grew dark and shadowy again, she hoped he would be able to take it all in when his sanity was still on the brink. "It can take the shape of any person who has died, so that it can taunt people who are living into doing what it wants. Being incorporeal really doesn't matter when you can torture people into obeying you." Noting how he had grown quiet again and his lost ambience had come back, she rubbed his shoulder lightly. This time he didn't flinch away, "What did it say to you?"  
  
"Just.. stupid things," He shrugged, but warmed to her touch, needing a friend more than anything else at the moment. Summing the First's words up he paraphrased, "'I'm evil, my father's evil, we're all gonna die.. blah, blah, blah..' You know, I really hope I wasn't that annoying back then." He finished with a small grin, falling back on his humor defense.  
  
"Good news though, Connor," Willow said as Faith grabbed a spot on a chair across from the both of them. The witch pulled the orb they had found the night before out of her coat pocket, "First of all, we found the orb for the spell that will open the portal. Second of all, once Faith stops the vortex, the bad vibeage will cease and desist. And the First doesn't have enough power to stay in this world without feeding off of something. It'll be gone, and everything will go back to normal. Well, relatively speaking."  
  
"How soon can we go," Connor shot a look at Faith. The sadness and lost look he had was shaken off, as he started going over battle schematics in his head. He stood up and walked over to retrieve the weapon he had stored behind the front desk, "If we leave now, we could get there and back by nightfall."  
  
Faith sauntered over towards the front desk, putting her hands on it. She starred over the countertop at the boy, and addressed him with sternness that only came from being a slayer for so many years, "Uh, uh, you're not coming."  
  
"What, why not," Connor was thrown off by her command. They'd been planning this even since finding out about the vortex, they were going to do it together. She needed back up, which he would provide whether she liked it or not. He couldn't just let Faith go alone, sure she was the slayer, but that thing was huge. Placing the sword down on the counter between them, he gave her an equally unrelenting order. "I'm coming, so get over it."  
  
"I can't have you going all psycho on me, okay." Faith realized she hurt Connor's feelings with that remark and tried to smooth things over again, "We don't know what the First will try or whether you can handle it if the First does try to get to you again."  
  
"I can handle it. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker the First will leave me alone. Then we can open the portal, and I can go home." Connor's voice softened, the need to be a champion coming back to him. "Please, Faith. Let me do this."  
  
Faith sighed exasperatedly. It was a crazy plan, why didn't he see that it was a crazy plan. The slayer looked back at Willow and gestured to Connor, "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."  
  
"I don't know, Faith. He might be right." Willow joined them by the counter, once again cast as the mediator in the discussion. Considering the facts carefully, she dolled out her sage advice, "There's a full moon out tonight. It'll be the perfect time for casting the spell. That is, if we're able to close the vortex and stop the magicks from mixing. I can't go with you, because I'm not strong enough to go near the area the vortex is in without getting deathly sick, but you two are stronger than the average human and.. well.. I think he should go with you, Faith."  
  
Two against one. Connor knew he had Faith beat.  
  
"And what if he goes psycho and tried to kill me again," Faith complained. Though she knew she was strong enough to take him on normal terrain, once they got into the area the black clouds covered her strength would be zapped. Plus, it was the only card she had still could play.  
  
"Well," Willow patted her on the back, "That's just part of the wacky fun."  
  
It was only in jest, since they had gotten past their differences lately, and all Faith could do was roll her eyes even though she felt like hurting them all. The slayer really didn't like when things didn't go her way. "Sure, make jokes about the girl who had a raving lunatic for a partner."  
  
The slayer walked away, headed for a quick shower to get ready for the big day that lay ahead. Watching her go, Connor glanced back at Willow, "Thank you, for that. Sticking up for me after everything.. just, thank you."  
  
"Before you go, Connor," Willow began, "I just to tell you something. I'm not exactly sure what you did in your past, but I want you to know that it doesn't matter. The past is the past. Everyone's got some skeleton hanging in their closets. I skinned a man once, Faith slayed a human. You don't have the corner covered on regret." She rarely talked about the black-eyed time of her life, but he needed to hear it from someone. The way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders these days, it pained her to see someone in so much distress.  
  
He nodded, the words sinking in. Neither of the girls looked like the murdering type, neither looked like they needed redemption; they had fought their way back, brazing a path down the road to recovery. They had come through it all, and they had survived. He'd always have them in the back of his mind as role models for his own journey.  
  
"I'm leaving, when this is all over." Connor disclosed the decision he came to that night, after he came back to the empty hotel. "I'm going to go back home, and things are going to be better. I'm going to be better. Could you just not tell my father what happened when he gets back here? He already worries too much about me, one more reason to brood and I swear that man's going to have a hernia."  
  
"If that's what you want." Willow returned the boy's smile, "And I'll make sure Faith doesn't say anything either." As an afterthought she added, "Just don't think that by going home it'll make all the pain go away. You carry a lot of grief around. I can see it in your aura. I went all the way to England and it didn't stop the hurt, but you know.. one day at a time, that's our motto."  
  
"I'll deal with it, I will." He promised her, "I'm not running away. Just getting some time off from the constant fighting. My new mom, she's a psychologist. She's knows people who can help. Of course I don't know what I would say to them. They'll be like 'What's your earliest childhood memory' and I'll be all 'I slayed a yort when I was five in a hell dimension. It was bloody.' See, it just wouldn't work."  
  
"You'll think of something," She said kindly and patted his head.  
  
.....................................................................  
  
Because I have nothing else to say today, I will pimp a fic by someone I don't even know. The piece was just too fricken funny not to mention somewhere. Oh how I love sometimes. (Angel Season Five: Recap by Oceana. Located at: ) 


	20. Chapter 20

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 20  
  
By Vixen  
  
Willow sat cross-legged with an old spell book in her lap, going over the list of ingredients for the first part of the portal opening spell. It dealt with basic astral projection, which she was vaguely familiar with. However, today she was astral projecting into another dimension to ensure Angel and the rest were ready for the trip back. There were a few things she needed to tell them before starting the second part of the spell, the part that would actually open the portal. Luckily, it hadn't taken her that long to find the information to save the day, she was getting better at that lately and was even tempted to open up a company somewhere in South America. Something like Angel Investigations, only her own and with more magick instead of vampire strength. It was an idea she was working on.  
  
The others had left a little over an hour ago. Faith was still annoyed at having lost the debate with Connor, pouting and fussing the whole time when they were getting ready to leave. Willow knew the slayer could handle herself if the First made another appearance, however.  
  
She had lied when she told Connor it probably wouldn't bother him again. When the First saw it's power being snuffed out, and the vortex going down, it was sure to make one last grab at the boy's fragile mental state. It, like most evil things, wouldn't want it's fun spoiled by those who wanted to destroy its strength. Still, he was a strong fighter, something Faith would need in order to get the job done. He also had the same look in his eyes as she recognized from her own past; the wanting to put things right, to make a difference. Willow couldn't have settled the dispute any other way once she saw that in him.  
  
Sorting through the herbs she'd brought with her from Bolivia, Willow made sure everything was ready to go, putting away the questioning thoughts concerning Faith and Connor's safety for the time being. She stood up, spell book in hand and walked to the middle of the lobby.  
  
Sprinkling the heather water on the ground, she moved in a slow clockwise circle creating an outer ring of protection. It was something Willow had added to all of her spells, a trick she found in some old tome while in South America. It formed a barrier that sheltered her from the darkness, made sure that only pure white magick got through to her. It was an unnecessary precaution, but she wouldn't trust herself to do a spell of this magnitude any other way. When she got back to the starting point of the circle, the pink-colored water disappeared up into the air, fading as it evaporated in a sudden whoosh of energy.  
  
Then she began making a smaller circle, inside the one of protection. This circle would bring the magick to her, drawing energy into the center. She sprinkled the sparkling bluish powder on the ground, and it lit up like wildfire, dancing and forever burning though not hot to the touch. Once that circle was complete, she sat down again.  
  
With the book in her lap, Willow began reciting the Latin that was written inside in sloppy handwriting scrawl. It was like an unwritten rule, witches that took the time to write down their spells always had bad handwriting. Whether it was done to subconsciously guard the written words from prying eyes or because they just didn't have enough time to sit down and do it neatly, Willow never knew. The Latin flew off her tongue, as she closed her eyes, the mantra already memorized, "Animadvertistine, ubicumque stes, fumum recta in faciem ferri!"  
  
Her voice grew louder, coming from a source outside of herself. The hair at her temples glowed white, the colored streaks working their way down the length of her hair. Her vision grew cloudy as her inner focus used the energy that was already swirling about in the atmosphere to color her pupils pure white. It enabled her to see the truth, the veiled world of magick that was always there unseen by humans.  
  
She looked up at the sky as a beam of light gazed her forehead, and she left the room. It took a while to travel to project to the other world but during that time she was outside on the astral plane, outside of her body, and it felt good. A blissful kind of good that was natural and pure, as close to heaven as one could get and still live to talk about it.  
  
Once she did arrive in the new dimension, Willow glanced around herself. It was dark; a multitude of stars filled the sky, clearly being seen in the wilderness, far away from any lights. When she turned to her left, she saw a bonfire off in the distance. She thought the spell would have brought her to the exact spot as those she was trying to find, but it seemed she would have to walk now. Sighing, she started out on the long walk towards the only sign of civilization she could see.  
  
If she hadn't used up so much power getting there, she could have just popped over there by using a few teleportation tricks. She had to have enough energy getting back to her own dimension or they were all in trouble. The walk wasn't so bad though, she kinda enjoyed being out in the open air even though she couldn't really feel it, or smell it, but the sight was pleasant enough. At least her friends weren't trapped in a hell dimension, she mused, unless it was just quiet. She guessed the second choice when a large animal-creature-thing, she wasn't sure exactly what it would be called, crossed her path.  
  
The witch held her breath, watching its muscles flex as it walked by her, but remembered with a laugh that she wasn't really there. She was just an image, and it couldn't hurt her, let alone see her. The only ones who could see her were those she had set out to find, the ones she would eventually help bring home. As she neared the bonfire, she finally spotted them, amongst the crowd of people who were enjoying the night's festivities.  
  
Spike was being asked to dance by a throng of girls, while Illyria sat next to him starring down anyone who dared talk to either of them. It was Willow's first view of Illyria, and she couldn't help but watch the Old One. Though she had heard the tale of how she had come into the world from Wesley's email, the witch still couldn't get over how much she looked like Fred and acted so very opposite of the sweet and innocent Texan she had once met. It was a startling transformation, replacing soft curves with chiseled features, bone hard and strong from fighting amongst her army millennia ago. Willow had only met Fred once, but it was enough to feel a kind of loss she could barely put her finger on.  
  
Moving through the crowd unseen, Willow noticed Angel and Gunn talking to one another. An eight-year-old ran past them, playing around with a bunch of teenagers. He stumbled into Angel after running to catch a ball one of the older kids had thrown. Willow watched as Angel laughed, which was in itself weird for the dark and brooding avenger. He helped the kid up and Willow could make out him asking if it wasn't past the kid's bedtime yet. The little boy smiled, shook his head, and then ran off to play with the group of teenagers who were waiting for him.  
  
Willow started to walk over, and just then Angel looked up. Across the smoke she could see that her image registered with him, his eyes were wide, watching her, it almost looked like he didn't believe what he was seeing. A ghostly image from his own world, Willow didn't blame him for being a little startled. He told Gunn he would see him later, and walked over to Willow.  
  
"Hey, Angel," The redhead said with a smile as he neared. Then, she looked at the gathering of people who were there, noticing that they weren't alone and perhaps it wasn't the best place to talk to him. "Don't say anything, just follow me, okay?"  
  
He agreed, glancing around at the people as well, knowing why she had given that instruction. They walked out into the darkness beyond the light of the bonfire, where they could converse without being seen or heard. "Is that really you, Willow?"  
  
"Yep, it's me." The witch said, simply. She watched the emotions play out across his face, surprised that she could read them so well. "I'd give you a hug, but that wouldn't really work. You'd just go right through me.. and it would look weird."  
  
"I didn't want to tell Gunn, just in case it wasn't you. It's really good to see you again," Angel explained, then he changed the topic, "How did you get here?"  
  
"Oh, boy, is that a long story," Willow laughed. She wasn't even sure herself how she had been roped into all of this. It had all started with a phone call from Faith, and ended up here in an alternate dimension talking to an old friend under a sky full of stars that seemed out of place and made strange constellations. Life was funny that way. "Faith, Connor, and I are working to bring you guys back home."  
  
"Connor? He's helping?"  
  
"Yep, he is." Willow smiled, catching the proud look on Angel's face. "We all pulled together and found this spell that'll reopen the portal, we're going to perform tonight.. well, since time moves differently in this world it'll actually be tomorrow for you, according to the book. I just wanted to make sure everyone here was doing okay, and tell you to be prepared and stuff. When the big swirly out-of-place shiny thing appears, walk towards it okay. I'm not really sure what it's going to look like. I've never opened a portal before. I'm thinking something out of Slider, that old Sci- fi show.. that you've probably never seen, and here I am going off on another of my babblefests."  
  
A faint grin crossed his face, "Its okay. I've missed hearing your voice."  
  
Willow felt a twinge pulling her back to her own world, telling her that there wasn't much time left. She had better say what she had to say and get back home before her tie to her own world was severed too severely and she was lost without a way to return. "There's a catch to the spell though, it can only open the same portal. Which means you have to return to where you first appeared in this world, but that's it."  
  
He nodded, "That's fine. We can do that."  
  
"I think that's about it... and now I really have to go," Willow said. She waited for one more moment, to make sure Angel was really okay, before reciting another choice Latin phrase that would bring her back to her world. Her vision went fuzzy, before the alternate dimension faded completely before her eyesight.  
  
It took less time getting back then it did going to the alternate dimension, the tether of energy that ran from her body pulled Willow back like a fishing line, reeling her in until she was at last back in the Hyperion. She blinked as she felt her body surround her once more, there was a slight sensation of pins and needles running through her whole body. She stood up and noticed that the circle of mystical blue fire which had been burning brightly during the spell had gone out, assuring that the spell was complete and the energy returned to it's natural place in the universe.  
  
It was all set. Tonight Willow would work the spell and everything would go back to the way it should be.  
  
...........................................  
  
Sona si latine loqueris. (Honk if you speak Latin.) 


	21. Chapter 21

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 21  
  
By Vixen  
  
Faith had remarked on how warm it was when they left for this mission. Summer was right around the corner. However, when they crossed over into the area covered by the dark shadowed sky, the place where the vortex had its strongest hold, the heat fled along with all other signs of life. Under the black sky, the overcast streets were unwelcoming and cold.  
  
"Well, I guess we're in the right place," The slayer said as thundered rippled overhead. The creepy sensations the place gave off were stronger than ever. Even though Willow had put a protection spell on both of them before leaving the hotel, Faith could still feel her strength being drawn away, leaving her more vulnerable than she wanted to be in the current situation.  
  
At least the plan was simple enough. A few Romanian phrases said in the right accent, a dash of herbs and powered, and the vortex would cease to be. Faith just hoped she got the words right for the spell. Willow had gone over the incantation with them about a hundred times before they'd left. The witch had corrected Faith on her pronunciation leading the slayer to becoming agitated and annoyed. Still, it was to make sure that all the words rolled off the girl's tongue the right way, they only had one chance at this and it had to work.  
  
Connor's job was easier; all he had to do was toss the mixture of herbs into the center of the vortex. That, and deal with his schizophrenic alter ego who Faith was sure was still talking to him. Faith kept one eye on him at all times, just so that she wouldn't be surprised if he started acting crazy again. Looking back at him again, she shot him a worried glance, wondering if being so close to the vortex would give The First an added strength. He saw the look and knew exactly what she was thinking. Hell, he was thinking the same thing himself. Nevertheless, he returned her look with a pouting scowl of his own, "What? I'm fine."  
  
"Just checking," she replied a little angrily. How she had lost the argument, she'd never know. The mission was too dangerous to throw unknowns like this into the mix. Willow had her little talk with the boy before leaving, and the witch had told her that he was okay to go. Still, Faith was wary, better to be prepared for an ally to stab you in the back, then to actually get stabbed in the back. It was her life's motto and perhaps the reason why she had been so independent in the past.  
  
A wave of bad vibes brought her attention back to the vortex, it was like a passing wave of nausea, thankfully not lasting that long. "Did you feel that? We're getting closer." She pressed forward, hoping they could get this over with and be done with it before anything bad happened. That probably wouldn't happen, she imagined. One of the first rules of being a slayer was to always expect Murphy's Law to screw the easiest of jobs up.  
  
Behind her, Connor was busy ignoring the uninvited visitor who had been walking beside him for a few blocks now. The First. Even knowing that it wasn't really him did little to easy Connor's apprehension towards it. Though he told Faith that he was doing okay, he had a feeling she was catching on. The uneasy looks she cast in his direction, the distance she kept between them, it said it all. She didn't trust him.  
  
"You have to stop her, she'll bring that monster back. He'll kill you all," Other-Connor told him, unheard by the slayer his voice was a constant in Connor's ears.  
  
Fortunately, the boy was starting to become so familiar with the broken record that it's playing fazed him little any more. He moved past The First, kept moving, and didn't answer it back. It was the only thing he could do until they reached the center of the vortex and destroyed the source of The First's power. If that didn't work like Willow had told him it would, though, Connor wasn't sure he would be able to live with the persistent voice. Climbing back in control of his sanity had been hard enough, he didn't think he'd be able to do it again. He looked over at Other-Connor, watching The First spill whatever lies he needed to garner some influence over the events as they unfolded, feeling a strange sort of self-pity.  
  
They turned down another block, and the spiraling cyclone vortex came into view. It had grown in size, pushed out into the edges of the street. It had been sweeping up everything in sight, like a stationary tornado. The slayer pointed to it, nudging her companion, "There it is, are you ready to do this?"  
  
"I think so," Connor answered, opening the paper bag of ingredients he sifted through them, double checking that they were all there. He went over the spell in his mind. First Faith had to say the words. Then he tossed the powder into the vortex, followed by the yellow herbs, both of which smelled really bad. He just had to get close enough to the vortex to chuck the stuff in without being sucked up into it, and their job would be done.  
  
That though, would take some difficulty. The air was whipping furiously around them; the tall buildings made a wind tunnel that blew towards the spiraling black darkness, not away from it. Damn their luck.  
  
Faith gripped a railing on one of the building's front stairways. Pushing her brunette hair away from her face, she regretted not pulling it back into a ponytail before setting out. Pulling out two ropes from her bag, she tied one to her waist and attached it to the stair's railing. It was the only semi-stable thing on the whole block from the looks of it, she only hoped it stayed that way. If she could have thrown the rope around the whole building, she would have, just to secure themselves.  
  
Taking the other rope, she looped it around the railing and tied the other end to Connor's waist. He gave her a small smirk when her hands touched him gently on his sensitive sides.  
  
She shook her head, and said something. Her words got lost in the wind, so she repeated herself, "We have to be five feet away. Or it won't work. That's what Willow said."  
  
He nodded, affirming that he had heard and started walking towards the vortex, which was so much easier than trying to stay away from it. Pulled towards its direction, he waited for Faith to follow. She needed to recite the spell before he could even begin.  
  
Standing there, Connor realized that he had lost track of where The First was. In its last few minutes with that much power, Connor didn't think it would just give up and leave. Not when its power source was about to be destroyed. Anxiously, he glanced around, not wanting to be surprised by whatever it was planning for him.  
  
When he saw it again, The First had chosen to change its form and tactic. Appearing as Angel, it walked over to where Connor struggled against the rushing wind. The air currents seemed to have no effect on The First, it moved down the block as if it was just a normal windless day. Even through all the noise The First's impression of father was still loud enough to be heard, "You're going to fail. It's all you've ever done."  
  
He closed his eyes, willing himself to ignore it. Connor had worked up a defense against the other persona The First had used, by telling himself that he was not like that anymore. This fear still lived however; not yet changed. He had failed; it was the reason all of this was happening. If he had just been faster, or refused to leave Wolfram and Hart when he had known his father was in trouble, it would have turned out differently. The wrong choices, again and again, it was all he made. Fighting to stay in control and remember that it was just an illusion, Connor shouted back at it, "Shut up!"  
  
"I wanted a son, and instead I got you. A failure, with nothing to show for himself," The Other-Angel loomed over Connor, shaking his head in disgrace. "There wasn't a day that went by that I wasn't happy I killed you when I got the chance. But then you had to come back and screw everything up again."  
  
"You're lying! You're not my father," Connor had forgotten about the mission, his attention only coming back to the job he had to do when Faith called out to him.  
  
"Connor?" Her voice called over the endless clamor again, "Don't go freaking out on me now. Not now! Do you hear me!"  
  
He looked back at her, nodding painfully. "Hurry up!"  
  
Faith began shouting the Romanian at the top of her lungs, rushing through the words, yet she managed to get them all said correctly. Willow would have been so proud. She finished the incantation and the sky began to crackle with more lightening. With a worried frown on her face, she looked over to see Connor still arguing with the thing that only he could see. She was about to yell over at him when she felt a twinge in her rope, the railing was staying in place, but the rope was beginning to snap, so was his. They didn't have much longer, and when Faith looked over at the boy she saw that he had lost his concentration and was yelling at The First. "Connor! Now! Do it now!"  
  
Her voice shook Connor from his private conversation with Other-Angel. Halting the argument, he flashed a twisted grin at it and pulled the powder out from the bag. When he tossed it into the vortex, The First showed the beginnings signs of fear and anger, if it could even feel emotions. It gave Connor hope that Willow was right, all he had to do now was toss the herbs into the vortex and it was over.  
  
Suddenly, Connor felt the rope snap, and the loose end fell slack against the street. Nothing was tethering him to the building anymore, his eyes went wide. He cursed as he felt the wind starting to pick him up into the air. Once he had been lifted from the ground, he somersaulted through the air, floating faster and faster towards the vortex.  
  
Connor refused to fail like the First had said he would though. Grabbing the herbs, he waited until he flipped through the air again and was pointed at the swirling vortex. At the last second, just before he reached its edges and was about to be sucked up into it, he chucked the herbs into its immense darkness.  
  
That was all that was needed. It shuddered once and then closed in upon itself, disappearing into the ground, dragging The First down with it. The warmth and sunshine the rest of Los Angeles had been enjoying that day returned instantly to the area, the winds calmed and all was still.  
  
Connor would have been overjoyed, had he not been fifteen feet in the air. With ungraceful motions, he came flailing down to the street, landing on his back. The pain wasn't that bad though, he had the strength of a vampire in his genes. He'd live. Opening his eyes, he saw Faith leaning over him. A little dazed, he asked her, "That was it? We stopped it?"  
  
"Yep, we did." There was worry in her eyes though, but Connor soon realized that it was for him since the danger had ended. She looked him once over, "Are you okay?"  
  
He sat up, rubbing his shoulder. It hurt like a bitch, but he would get over it. "If I told you 'I'm fine', would you believe me?"  
  
"This time, yes, I think I would."  
  
.........................................  
  
I'm too tired to think of something witty to say. Le sigh. 


	22. Chapter 22

After The Storm  
  
Chapter 22  
  
By Vixen  
  
It took all night and part of the next day to travel on horseback the distance back to where it had all began, where Angel, Spike, Illyria and Gunn had begun their journey in the new world. They had started to believe they would never leave, but they had finally come full circle, they were going home, just as soon as Willow performed the spell and opened the doorway home.  
  
Spike dismounted his horse, thankful to feel the earth under his feet again. He had never liked riding horseback when he was alive, and hadn't done so since he had died. After he was down, he held out a hand to Illyria, who had been forced to ride behind him when they had been unable to borrow enough for the whole group. "Want a hand?"  
  
In return for his help, Illyria snapped a kick at his face. "I do not require assistance from feeble creature such as yourself." She swung her other leather-clad leg around, and easily slipped off the horse, though her landing needed a little work. She stumbled, nearly falling face first, not used to traveling by horse. In the past she had been a teleporter, effortlessly moving from one point to another, from one dimension to another. Frustrated with the vampire, she stomped off after Gunn hoping to find better company, as Spike chuckled behind her.  
  
The blond vampire led his horse over to where Angel was busy tying up the reins of his and Fiyara's horses. Their liaison, as she insisted on calling herself, had been sent with them by the elders, as a guide so that they could find their way back to the place where the portal would most likely open. As she sat with Terrin on a large rock, she engaged in conversation with Angel, mostly just boring stuff Spike didn't care about. Therefore he had no problem butting into the conversation as he fought his stubborn animal to stay still while he tied its reins to a nearby rock, "Still can't believe they looked like the slayers.. whole thing's just weird." Spike shook his head, he had commented on it a few hundred times after they had met the elders for the first and last time. It had been remarkable, "Older and gray-haired, but still the same Buffy. Strange."  
  
"You 're not going to get over that any time soon, are you," Angel had grown impatient with the younger vampire. It had shocked him too, though he hadn't told any of the people of the tribe, save for Fiyara. Angel looked up at Spike, "In this world, Buffy, Faith, Kendra.. they're just as important only they get to live long, healthy lives." He crossed his arms, thinking about the strangeness of it all. "It's like the universe, or universes, way of balancing the scales."  
  
Though in the end, however fitting it was for at least one Buffy to grow old, it was a bit unnerving meeting the love of his unlife's much older twin. Spike felt pretty much the same way. Cocking his head before he walked away, he mused, "Still bloody weird, if you ask me."  
  
Angel watched Spike join Gunn and Illyria, the human and ex-god were arguing about which was the better way to start a fire in which to cook their breakfast on. Illyria did not need to eat, but she still looked about ready to resort to fisticuffs if Gunn did not listen to her expertise.  
  
Angel shook it off, not wanting to get in the middle of that argument. Gunn could handle himself anyway. Instead, the vampire looked over at Terrin. He was curled up already sleeping in Fiyara's lap, though they had only dismounted a few minutes ago. The boy had insisted on coming with them, wanting a chance to see them leave, though spending the whole night awake had left him exhausted. "Are you guys going to be okay?" He asked. It was the same question he had asked last night, of the whole tribe. He had no idea where all the new immigrants would go in the other dimension, but it seemed safer than staying there. "You could still come with us if you want."  
  
"This is our land, Angel." She replied, gazing up at the pair of suns on the edge of the horizon. While at times it seemed barren and harsh, it was far from the hell dimension it had first appeared. "You have taught us a lot, all of you."  
  
"So did you," Angel smiled as he looked at Terrin. The boy was just beginning to wake up a little, smelling the fire and sizzling breakfast Illyria had begun cooking. Smiling, he remembered the past few months, learning to let go of the pain of not being around when Connor was a child. Teaching, learning, living, it was a never-ending process. They had both taught each other much.  
  
Later, Illyria and Spike sat around the fireplace with Gunn. The human ate the breakfast Illyria had cooked up, surprised at how good it tasted. Though she had burnt the first batch of bacon and eggs, she had adapted her technique, worked on her skill and within five minutes was cooking like a pro chef. Gunn figured it was only because he had told her that she wouldn't be able to. Never tell Illyria what she can and can not do, because she will only rise to your challenge, Gunn had reminded himself, just in case the next time he did so was during a fight with her that hinged not just on cooking skills.  
  
Gunn munched down the bacon, hoping to get rid of the tiredness that had set in after the journey. He was willing himself not to fall asleep though, the portal was going to open soon. There was a certain static feeling to the air that told him it was not too long off. Had he fallen asleep, he might have missed the big event, and been stranded in that dimension again. That was so not an option in his mind. Instead, he busied himself with eating and naming the many things that he would do once they got back, "A little R&R first, sleep would be good, followed by a nice hot bath, catch a game on tv, go hang down at the park, see some old friends, maybe go ride that Thunder Mountain roller coaster.. this is gonna be great. Gonna do everything I always said I would. Twice."  
  
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Charlie-Boy," Spike told him, "Hasn't opened yet."  
  
"You don't think there's a chance it won't," Gunn asked as he did a double take towards Spike.  
  
The vampire laughed, "Just having a peck of fun. If Red says she has it under control, she'll handle it." With a smirk he added, "You'll get your Thunder Mountain, just sit tight."  
  
Gunn resisted the urge to punch the vampire in the arm, "Don't mess with me like that. Geez, got me worried for a second. Thinking about life here.. its not how I want to spend the rest of my days. Finally understand why Lorne used to hate Pylea because of the lack of music. Man, I gotta turn some tunes up when I get home."  
  
While Gunn continued thinking about the multitudes of things he had to catch up on, Illyria turned to Spike, "Tell me, vampire, what is it that you will partake in when you reach your home." It came out sounding like a command, as she was used to giving so many over the years she had ruled the lower beings.  
  
Spike turned his attention from Gunn to Illyria, it wasn't like her to be interested in his whereabouts or what he was doing. Though, to be honest, she had not been acting much like herself lately, all the grief and open emotions tearing at her probably, unable to fight against the tide that was pulling her under. Spike wished she would stop trying to get him wrapped around her finger though, it was getting downright annoying, "Why does it matter to you, Smurfette?"  
  
As she cocked her head back towards the fire, her blue hair swayed around her shoulders, "Your affairs matter little in the plans of the cosmos. Your life so small, so minute, even when you are dead you do not full exist. You believe that you do, that you are powerful and great, when I have tasted true power, I have been true power and know that you are but nothing." She paused, "But you do intrigue me. The way your plot your existence, in the face of forces greater than yourself."  
  
That was as close to a compliment as she was capable of. Brushing it off, he asked, "What else can you do? Give in to the fates that are against you, why bother with that? Sometimes," he raised an eyebrow impudently, "you even win against them."  
  
As if on cue, there was a loud rumbling, and from nothingness a swirling ripple ripped the sky apart. Shaken by the noise, Spike and Gunn spring up, more than ready to enter the portal. It opened its mouth wider, while it had only started off as a pinpoint of light, it had now grown to the size where they could easily walk straight through it.  
  
Illyria rose slowly, not wanting to be rushed. Any world was as good as any other to her.  
  
"That's it," Gunn pumped a fist through the air, rushing towards the opening. Spike followed closely behind. They waited at the gateway, watching the world inside its space appear, like a window opening. It was the same alleyway they had fought in before, the last place they had seen before leaving their world. Gunn's homesickness only grew watching as the portal slowly revealed the dark street. At least they'd be home soon. Willow, Faith, and Connor could be seen just on the other side of it, waiting for them. It was truly a beautiful sight.  
  
Just before it reached its full size, Angel walked over to it with Fiyara and the now-awake Terrin. He gave a warm smiled to Fiyara and patted Terrin on his head, "Take care of yourself, kid."  
  
The boy looked up at Angel with eyes full of respect and appreciation. "Bye, Angel," Terrin whispered, softly, barely audible. Fiyara and Angel looked down at the boy, startled and more than a little happy. He had finally talked.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it's a Christmas miracle," Spike pulled on Angel's arm, "Can we go now?"  
  
The portal had grown to its full height, now was the time to go through it. Gunn and Illyria entered it first, appearing on the other side as if they were just stepping through a window. Seeing as how the others had made it, Spike followed, now knowing it was safe.  
  
Angel gave one last smile to the pair of humans he had met in the past few months, and turned to go when he heard a growl behind him. A deep-throated, demon growl that was attached to a ten-foot tall beastly looking thing that stomped forward. It looked very hungry, as did the other one who followed behind the first.  
  
Angel looked at the portal, it was beginning to close. Then his attention darted over towards Fiyara and Terrin, "Run. Get the horses. Get out of here."  
  
As they started to leave, Angel diverted the attention of the two demons. Looking behind him, he saw he was losing his chance to leave through the portal, as it was started to shrink in size considerably. Forming a plan, he waved his arms at the two beasts, "Come on, come get me."  
  
The demons rushed at him, just as Angel turned and ran for the portal. When he stepped into the gateway to his home world, Angel tumbled down onto the street. Turning around, he saw that the portal had closed and the beasts were now stuck in Los Angeles. Standing up, Angel readied himself for a fight.  
  
..........................................  
  
I'm curious to see if I can get 100 review for this fic. It'll be interesting to see if that happens.. 


	23. Chapter 23

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 23  
  
By Vixen  
  
It had been going so perfectly, Willow's spell casting had been flawless. She had not expected the two demons to enter their world however. The witch jumped up, abruptly ending the spell, sealing the portal permanently. Grabbing the only thing of any worth that had been used in the spell, a silver chalice she regularly used while working with magick, she backed away from the glowering demons, suddenly feeling useless and ill prepared.  
  
Angel stood up, facing one of the demons. He watched as the demons moved forward, separating them into two groups, dividing their ranks. Spike, Illyria, Willow, and Gunn on one team, leaving Angel, Connor, and Faith on the other. They would each be capable enough to take on two measly demons, hopefully.  
  
As the demons circled them, Connor recalled how he himself had entered Los Angeles a few years ago followed by a demon he stated, "I really hate Deja Vue." The hairy demon rushed at him when Connor opened his mouth to speak. He instantly regretted saying anything as the demon's tail swung out and hit him in the stomach, sending Connor smashing into the wall of the building behind him.  
  
"Connor," He heard his father call out to him. "Are you okay?"  
  
Connor nodded his head a little, through the dazed confusion that followed the blow he still managed to cough out, "Don't worry about me, just kill that thing already."  
  
As Connor tried to get up, leaning against the wall for support, he watched Faith and Angel take on the demon. They were true fighters, trained to be champions. One vampire with a soul, and one slayer, both champions for the common good. He wasn't like them; whatever strength he possessed, it hardly mattered. He didn't belong there.  
  
As he watched the battle ensue, the nagging doubt at the back of his mind grew. They knew what they were doing, who they were, and yet Connor was still floundering around in life, still unsure of which route to take.  
  
He watched as his father kicked the demon in its stomach, knocking it down. Though, the thing managed to take out Faith on its crash to the floor, giving her one last punch before it fell. The slayer tried to duck, but the blow hit her squarely in the head, hard enough to make her black out.  
  
When the demon got to its feet, facing the only opponent it had left, Connor sighed knowing he was going to have to go help his father. Through the still numbing pain from the last blow, he managed to walk back into the fray, and without a word took up the battle beside his father. It felt like the fight with the agent at Wolfram and Hart on the last day Connor had seen his father. This time though, he wasn't going to walk away from it.  
  
They worked like a team; each knowing what move the other would make before it was made. Perhaps it was the bond of a father and son, or maybe it was just because they had fought each other so many times in the past, they knew by now how each maneuvered in a fight.  
  
Angel looked over at him, after throwing a punch at the demon that had begun to look a little ragged. Connor's eyes were dark, unreadable, almost like he had been back when he first came to Los Angeles. Angel worried for his son, he had never wanted him to get back into the champion-gig; it wasn't him. He was supposed to have gone home that night, Angel had sent him back to his parents, and by now Connor was supposed to have gotten over that fateful day and on with his life.  
  
As good as it was to be back in Los Angeles and know that Connor cared about him at least a little, Angel knew it couldn't last. He deserved so much more than this life, he deserved something normal, a nice normal human family. Not this.  
  
Preoccupied with his pensive thoughts, Angel didn't see the demon lash out with its tail unexpectedly. It threw him off his balance, careening to the ground. The vampire struggled to get back up, involuntarily going into game face.  
  
However, before Angel could reenter the fight, Connor had gone berserk on the demon. Throwing a torrent of rampant moves at the soon-to-be defeated creature; the boy took over the whole fight, not even allowing Faith to intervene when she tried. Turning towards her, blocking her punch, Connor smiled devilishly, "He's mine."  
  
The boy and the demon wrestled to the floor, each of them fighting to the death. Connor rammed his fist into its flesh, taking out his frenzied anger on whatever part of the demon he could injure next. He placed his hands on either side of its head, gripping it tightly, and twisted it. Bones snapped underneath, it's neck broken in two with the force of Connor's inhuman strength.  
  
That didn't stop the boy though, he continued to pummel it. His punches slowed though, the energy leaving him as he felt Faith's hands on his shoulders.  
  
"It's over, Connor, you can stop now," She pulled him off the carcass of the dead creature. At first he resisted her touch, confused by the world as it suddenly came back to him. When he was fighting, it had just been him and the demon. All else was forgotten, now though as he struggled to his feet, it felt like the whole world was watching him.  
  
The other group had finished their own fight, the second demon lay at their feet, defeated. They had just enough time to kill their foe and see Connor destroy his demon mercilessly. The spotlight was beginning to make him feel rather awkward. Most of them went back to celebrating their victory. They had only wanted to make sure that the first demon was destroyed, Connor realized, they had not been starring at him. He relaxed a little, brushing off Faith's concern with a laugh. "You called me Connor, see you're learning. Good girl," He patted her on the head with a condescending grin.  
  
"There's always a first, and last, time for everything, kid," Faith smirked, crossing her arms.  
  
He gave her a mock-pout, and looked over as his father came over. Connor saw how troubled Angel looked, the worried glance people had been giving the boy over the past week now firmly fixed in Angel's own stare. The boy wanted to shrink away from that look, the slow cautious movements his worried father made towards him.  
  
"Connor," Angel stared down at the demon his son had killed in his fit of tumultuous violence. He was more than happy to see it die the death it deserved, but seeing his son revert to his old no holds barred fighting style, coupled with the dark Angel had seen in Connor's eyes, was unsettling. He shook his head, looked up at the boy, and for the second time that night asked, "Are you okay?"  
  
That question was starting to wear on his nerves, everyone seemed to ask it of Connor lately, whether in words, actions, or worried frowns. It worse with his father however, because Angel knew how Connor had been years ago. He'd seen it up close and personal. He'd been locked in a box and sent to the bottom of the ocean by the Destroyer Connor had been and feared he would become again if he wasn't careful.  
  
It was too much to deal with, so Connor did as he had done in the past and put on his pretend smile, ignoring the drama that seemed intent on playing out, "Just glad to get you guys back." Turning away from his father, he asked, "How about ordering some dinner, Faith? We can bring it back to the hotel."  
  
"I'm game. After that fight, I'm starved, I could eat a horse," Trying to help ease the growing tension, she wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulders and leading him out of the alleyway.  
  
"I'd settle for some chinese food," Willow added as she joined their conversation. Although fighting didn't make her hungry like it did to Faith, she was still famished after the last spell she had done. It took a lot of energy out of her to work the magicks, and she looked forward to relaxing with some food back at the hotel.  
  
"Did someone say chinese food," Gunn grinned ear to ear, "I could so go for some of that."  
  
"Eggrolls all around," Willow did a little celebratory dance, laughed, and grabbed Gunn's arm, "Come on, you look like you're a wanton man, am I right? Oh, we can get fortune cookies and read our fortunes." She turned back towards Spike, Illyria, and Angel, "Are you guys coming?"  
  
Angel nodded, absently, "We'll be right behind you."  
  
"So, that's your boy," Spike asked, coming over to the older vampire, "Hell of a fighter."  
  
"You saw that?"  
  
"Couldn't miss it," Spike commented, "Half expected him to vamp out. He's quite the little psycho." With a smirk he added, "Just like his old man." He clapped Angel on the back, a little roughly. It wasn't enough to shake Angel from his brooding reverie though. They moved forward, catching up to the rest of the group at the end of the alleyway.  
  
Illyria walked beside Spike, casting a derisive glance down at the two creatures left dead in the alleyway, "This fight, it does not end. It will keep going on until the last day you beings walk upon this earth. You seek to continue it now that you are back, do you not?"  
  
"It's what we do, Blue. Fight the unbeatable fight," Spike shrugged, "Possibly get killed in the process, but you can't tell me that it isn't fun. Besides, can't stop now that the game has started."  
  
Connor overheard their conversation as they joined the rest of the group. Spike was right in one regard, it was an unbeatable fight. The forces of darkness would always be out there, preying on the weak, killing any that opposed them. Beating the Black Thorn had stopped nothing, forgetting his own past had fixed nothing, the fight continued endlessly.  
  
Connor wanted off the constant roller coaster that was a champion's life. He wanted to go back home, be normal, at least for a little while. Time enough to get his head together. He just hoped that his father would understand, but doubted he would. He didn't even know how to bring it up. He really didn't want to have that conversation, explain why he was leaving, again.  
  
Connor glanced over at his father, but quickly his gaze darted away when he thought he had been seen. He didn't want to hurt him again, didn't want to abandon his father, but knew he'd only sink deeper into his old persona and life if he stayed. It would eventually destroy everything he had worked to change; everything that had been sacrificed to give Connor his happy life would be meaningless as he went back to his old behavior patterns.  
  
Torn between two worlds, Connor continued to walk on, in silence.  
  
........................................................ was having technical difficulties yesterday. Grr.. argh..  
  
Also, why does the word count not match that in Microsoft Word? This annoys me. 


	24. Chapter 24

After the Storm  
  
Chapter 24  
  
By Vixen  
  
Willow hurried to open the door to the hotel, seeing as she was one of the only persons not carrying a bag of Chinese food. She turned the knob and gestured towards the door, "Welcome back home, guys." The lights were still on, running on the power of magick, and Willow suddenly felt sorry for not cleaning up the place before Angel came back, "It's a little messy, but.."  
  
"..it's home." Angel finished her sentence, walking into the lobby. It felt good to be back. The apartments at Wolfram and Hart had never felt very welcoming; they had no history, no ambiance. It had been in The Hyperion that he had first felt a sense of belonging, being amongst friends and family. There was a past here, though looking at Connor he frowned, wondering if there was to be a future too.  
  
Illyria inspected the hotel, running her fingers over the surface of the wooden wall, listening to the echoes of the past. She looked up at the high ceiling, the patterns of the tiles intrigued her, it was a beautiful place. Though not a palace, and not fit for the god she had once been, it was enough for the woman she was becoming. Cocking her head towards the others who were settling down by the couches, she gave her approval, "It is.. acceptable."  
  
"Guess that means she's gonna be sticking around for a while," Spike plopped down on a chair, "Think I will too. Seems like a good place to hang my coat for the time being, plus annoying the hell out of you is always good for a laugh."  
  
When Angel barely acknowledged Spike's ribbing, Faith nudged Willow and the two of them disappeared into the kitchen to have a private talk, on the pretense of getting some blood out of the refrigerator for the two vampires.  
  
Meanwhile, Gunn sorted out the packages of food. "Ribs, oh those are mine," he said happily, setting the tray out on the coffee table. Then he pulled out another take-out food box and handed it over to Illyria as she joined the group, settling down on a chair next to Spike. "General Tao's Chicken. That would be for Big Blue over there."  
  
Illyria snatched up the food container. She did not need to eat, but the name of the food interested her. In the restaurant, she had asked the man working at the counter who General Tao was and what his battle plans had to do with chickens, and had only gotten a curious look from the human. Holding her chopsticks in one hand, she stabbed the pieces of chicken, turning them over inquisitively, trying to access their strengths and weaknesses.  
  
"Pet, we've been through this," Spike laughed, watching her, "It's just a name."  
  
"The humans have strange customs for naming things," She said derisively, upset that the dead one was snickering at her. There would be time enough to make him pay for that remark, since they would be spending time at the hotel together now that he was staying there too. Illyria would make him sorry he had said used such a tone with her, and then she planned to make him her pet. Sooner or later, for now she was just biding her time. Taking a bite of the chicken with the strange name, she smiled, "Enjoyable. Though not nutritious."  
  
"That's fast food for you," Willow replied to the blue-haired girl, as she returned to the lobby and sat down in the midst of the company. Gunn handed her the fried rice she had ordered, and the witch dug in, hungry from spell casting and from battle.  
  
Faith was right behind her, bringing out two cups full of warm blood. The slayer handed one to each of the vampires, receiving an appreciative nod from Angel and just a quickly grunted 'Thanks' from Spike. She ignored the irony of a slayer feeding two vampires in one night, and instead watched the silent interaction between Connor and Angel.  
  
The boy had been quieter than usual after they picked up the food, lost in thought like his father. Now their darting glances continued; each of them watched the other secretly, trying not to be noticed. Faith sighed inwardly, she was going to have to step in and sort this mess out eventually. Not that she really wanted to be the one to say something, but she'd promised Willow she would.  
  
Faith took a few wantons for herself and watched as Angel tried to stay in the on-going conversation, though his focus never left his son. He would only take a drink of his blood when Connor wouldn't see. It was kind of sweet, him not wanting to press the vampire problem that was between them, though Faith hoped they would just deal with their issues already and move on.  
  
Didn't they realize how lucky they were, Faith wanted to kick the both of them in the ass and tell them to get over it. She had never had parents that really cared about her, not the way Angel clearly cared about Connor. Faith's father had died when she was really young, and her mother was a perpetual drunk who slept around with men who liked to hit whoever was in their way. It was the reason Faith had dropped out of school and ran away many years ago, before she had the strength to fight back with her slayer power. Now, watching Angel and his son practically avoid each other all night, she was more than a little annoyed at the both of them.  
  
"Almost forgot about these," Gunn grabbed a handful of fortune cookies and laid them out in a pile on the table. He tore open the wrapper of one of them and retrieved the cookie. Breaking it in half, he pulled out his fortune, "'You'll be going on a trip soon. Pack light.'" He laughed, "I think it's a bit too late for that one."  
  
Connor picked one out of the batch, opened it and read the message that was inside. 'Your destiny lies before you, choose wisely.' The universe was definitely trying to tell him something here. He'd come to the crossroads, which way he turned was not entirely up to him however. It had already been decided by his actions, by the events that had transgressed the past few days, and by his own fear. He abruptly got up, leaving the conversation behind, and headed upstairs without saying a word. There were things to do before he left and he needed to get out of everyone's way as soon as possible, to stay any longer would make it even harder to leave.  
  
Angel watched Connor leave the room, frowned, and got up himself. Leaving the group, he headed outside, for the peace and solitude of the garden. Away from the others, sulking in the shadows, this was where vampires belonged. They didn't get to have families, didn't get to redo the past or change mistakes. Alone, he starred up at the night's sky. It had been easier in the other dimension, where no one knew him. They had looked up to his, thought he was some sort of hero, when in reality Angel didn't think he was anywhere close to being able to be redeemed. Destroying the Black Thorn had accomplished nothing, neither had working for Wolfram and Hart under the misguided belief that he was still helping the helpless. What's more, it had cost him his son. He made a deal with the devil, to give Connor everything he could not, a normal life, a normal family. It was killing Angel though; knowing Connor now belonged with them, not with him. They were everything he could never hope to be.  
  
He didn't turn around when he heard Faith open the backdoor and join him, her black boots clicking on the patio. She rested her elbows on the stair railing, enjoying the quietness with the vampire that had once saved her from self-destruction. It was time to repay the favor, "So, is it good to be home, or do you want to go back to where you were," She paused, her voice passive and non-aggressive, though she was still annoyed. "Cause the way you're acting, maybe we should have left you there, but then you know we would have had to stick around here and do your job, and I've gotta get back to N.Y.C sometime soon. So not bringing you back wasn't really an option, cause you know, we missed you and stuff."  
  
"Willow's been a bad influence on you," He pointed out, "You're babbling."  
  
"Yeah, well," She sighed, "I've never been great with the one-on-one talks where everyone shares their feelings, but me and Red drew straws to see who would have to talk some sense into you. I seriously think the witch cheated."  
  
"So.. we're going to share." He asked, skeptically.  
  
"Apparently." Willow was so going to pay for this, Faith thought to herself. She should have been the one doing this, not Faith. The witch was so much better at tackling emotional issues and doing the mediator thing. Jumping into the talk, she began, "I'll go first. You're being a dumbass."  
  
"I'm being a dumbass," He repeated her words, but the lingo sounded strange coming from him. He crossed his arms, standing tall, and asked roughly, "Why?"  
  
"If you don't like hearing this, we can throw down here and now, I'm a little tired but I think I could still take you, but.. you really need to stop acting like this," She jerked a thumb towards the backdoor, "Connor's up there avoiding you, you're down here avoiding him, when you both just gotta suck it up and talk to each other. Or at least that's what Willow thinks."  
  
Angel shot a glance towards the door, but didn't move. Instead he turned back to the darkness of the night sky, his expression full of melancholy. "He doesn't want to talk to me. He hardly said two words to me all night. It's probably just best if I just stay out of the way."  
  
"Yeah, because I know if I risked everything to bring my father home from a place that was world's away and unreachable, I wouldn't want to talk to him either." She sighed, running a hand through her hair and let out the bulk of her frustration, "God, Angel, you and Connor could have a future together. You know, you're family whether or not you changed that with some stupid magic spell. You're blood. That'll never change."  
  
He looked a bit startled at her outburst, "Why are you getting so upset about this?"  
  
She shook her head, clearing it. She'd never told anyone this, but if there was anyone in the world she trusted to confide in, it was Angel, "Look, I never knew my father. He died before I ever got a chance to really know him. I would give anything to have what you and Connor have right now, a second chance. And the both of you are just so damn eager to throw it all away." Faith looked like she wanted to smack him, to push him away for making her tell him all that. Though, she realized, it had all been at her own discretion. Taking a deep breath, she continued, steering the conversation clear away from her own life, "The kid's just worried is all. The First was back. Buffy told you about the First, right?"  
  
Angel nodded, trying to control the pain in his voice. Connor should never have had to go through that, "She mentioned it before the Hellmouth closed."  
  
"Yeah, well, he got a little mixed up. Willow says he's showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or something with a long name like that, but I think she just likes to sound all smart and stuff." She shrugged, "All I know is, Connor could really use a father right now. One who really knows him, one who understands him in a way his other parents don't."  
  
"So, you really think I should go talk to him," Angel still looked unsure. "What would I say?"  
  
"Hey, don't look at me," Faith shook her head as they headed back into the hotel, "One deep conversation is enough for me. I think I'd like to get back to kicking things now."  
  
"You were always much better at that," He cocked a smile at her, though it was clear she had helped him. As he walked through the lobby, and continued up the stairs, Willow gave Faith a small smile. They'd helped as much as they could, now it was up to Angel and Connor to do the rest.  
  
Angel heard Connor in the last room in the hallway and followed the noise. He knocked on the bedroom door even though it was already open and stood there in the hallway waiting for an invitation. He didn't need one, it had been his own bedroom, but he didn't want to intrude on Connor's privacy.  
  
"Oh, hi," The boy looked up as he continued shoving clothes haphazardly into his duffel bag. He looked to be in a rush, like leaving was the only thing on his mind. However, he still managed to fake a smile, "Come in, if you want. It is your bedroom after all, and you can have it back as soon as I'm done here."  
  
"You're packing," It was half question and half sentence. In the back of the vampire's mind he knew that's what Connor had rushed off to do, though watching his son so eager to leave hurt. "I thought you'd stay at least until the morning. You've had a busy day, maybe it would be best if you.."  
  
"No, really, I've gotta go. There's one last bus leaving tonight, and if I get my ass in gear I might just actually make it," Connor avoided facing his father, and continued pushing the clothes into his bag, with a growing intensity, fighting back the emotions that seemed so willing to come out.  
  
"Connor, can we.. talk?"  
  
The boy sat down on the bed, "I knew this was coming."  
  
"Whatever happened between us, you know that's in the past, right?" Angel shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. He pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Connor. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"  
  
"Dad," Connor started, but couldn't seem to get the words out. There was too much to say. Too much to apologize for. The bridge between them had burnt down long ago; rebuilding it seemed to be more difficult than had first imagined. He laughed it off, "Faith put you up to this didn't she? Or was it Willow?"  
  
"Actually they're both worried about you," He paused, "And seeing you fighting yesterday, I'm more than a little worried myself."  
  
"Yeah, well, I think I inherited your bloodlust," It was supposed to be a joke, but when the words left Connor's mouth they came out lost, cold. The trickster's smile that he hid behind quickly faded after the truth had been spoken. "It's the fighting, its just.. too much. It's not me anymore."  
  
"I think that's a good thing."  
  
Connor stood up and looked away guiltily. A moment passed before he spoke again, "I'm sorry. I know, I'm just causing more problems... I wish I could do the right thing for a change, be a champion, understand what it means to be one of the good guys but I'm just, really confused. I screwed up so badly, dad." He stopped pacing, and turned back to his father, willing himself not to cry. "I messed everything up."  
  
"You're talking to the king of screw ups, Connor." Angel said, walking partway across the room to his son, "I blame myself for what happened too, but in the end it wasn't just one person. Everyone had played a role in what happened. You, me, Holtz, Wesley, Justine.. but things are different now. We're different."  
  
"I don't know how you can do it," Connor backed away, shaking his head. His father was looking at him with eyes full of love; it was just too much, "How can you forgive me when I can't even forgive myself?"  
  
"You're my son." It was enough of a reason as Angel needed.  
  
Connor looked at the ground, thinking over everything and gathering his strength. After a moment, he turned to his father, "I wish I could stay here with you, I just.. I don't trust myself to be in Los Angeles right now; it's just a little too much for me. I need some time."  
  
Angel nodded, "Take all the time you need. I am immortal after all."  
  
Connor laughed, despite himself. "Yeah.. my father's a vampire, how weird is that? I'm guessing the father-son picnics are out.. but you know, if you want to stop by for coffee some time.." he left the invitation hanging in the air. Then as an aside he added, "Just make sure the world isn't ending next time."  
  
"It's a deal," Angel shook Connor's hand when the boy extended it to him. Then Connor pulled him into a tight hug suddenly, and Angel wrapped his arms around his boy. They were back in each other's lives now, and this time around things would be different.  
  
It would all work out.  
  
Somehow.  
  
..............................................................  
  
Last Author's Notes:  
  
38 days and 50206 words later.. and I'm done. I can't believe I wrote another novel (50,000 is novel length according to NaNoWriMo. I'll miss torturing my little Connor. I'll also miss everyone who gave me such great feedback too. Great big thank you's to:  
  
Abuhin, Adam, Aeryn's Tales, andy, Angelfirenze, Arekanderu, connorassassin, D.M. Evans, Erica Richardson, fanfiction fanatic, greg, Imzadi, Jamie, Kitten, Lori, m, ManniElf18, Pylea Princess, Randye, Supergurl15, Tariq, terra fea, The 2nd Evil, Trillian, tp96, trina-k.. and anyone else out there who had been reading this.  
  
Now that I'm done with this story I can check out some of yours.  
  
Last Pointless Side Note:  
  
I actually have that Chinese fortune that Connor read. It's where I got the whole idea for this story. And that's why Chinese food rocks so much, it gives you ideas.. and the wantons are yummy. 


End file.
